


Five Days In November

by Cpetrienm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Curvy Hermione, Dramione abroad, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-12 13:43:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13548525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cpetrienm/pseuds/Cpetrienm
Summary: Hermione and Draco serendipitously meet a few months after the war ends. A recovering Hermione welcomes Draco into her life, recognizing his need for friendship and healing. Draco seizes this second chance to prove to Hermione that he can be a better man.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Dear Readers! If you, like me, enjoy a fluffy, romantic story, this may be the story for you. 
> 
> I will be posting one chapter a day for the next few days until the story is complete.
> 
> Thank you for reading. <3

June 1998

 

Hermione Granger had never felt so alone.  Everyone she knew was immersed in their own feelings, just trying to make sense of their losses.  While the future was safer for most, it was also filled with unknowns.  

 

She’d gone to Australia to lift the memory charm she had done on her parents and found she was unable to reverse it.  Hermione was consoled by the fact that her parents lived in a cottage near the beach.  Her father was tan and smiling, his white teeth contrasting with his darkened skin.  Her mother’s traditional bob haircut had grown to her shoulders during the past year.  Her parents looked younger and happier than Hermione had ever seen them.  

 

By contrast, Hermione looked thin and worn.  At the age of 18, she sported an assortment of scars from her battles with Death Eaters.  Her hair had grown almost to her waist.  She scarcely thought about her appearance and didn’t look in the mirror often.  Her scarred arm made her self-conscious.  She wore long sleeves despite the summer’s heat.

 

Hermione returned to England and stayed with the Weasleys.  They were mourning the loss of Fred.  The Weasleys, ever the tight family, grieved together.  Ron gently told Hermione that Mrs. Weasley needed to be with her children and husband during this time.  Hermione understood.  She went to the Ministry of Magic to obtain a portkey to the United States.  

 

Hermione had read an article in a potions journal about a wizarding village in the mountains of New Mexico where native plants were used in healing potions.  She thought she might get an apprenticeship with a potion’s master.  The Ministry had granted Ron, Harry and Hermione N.E.W.T.s in subjects they had shown aptitude in.  She knew Professor McGonagall would write her a letter of recommendation if she needed one.  

 

Hermione went to Gringotts to transfer galleons into dollars.  She was grateful for the reward money granted to her after the battle.  She had enough money to last her several years, if she was careful.  

 

Harry and Ron joined Hermione at the Ministry of Magic for her departure.  The press hounded them as the trio stood in line waiting for Hermione’s turn.  Hermione felt numb with all the attention.  She would never get used to being an object of interest in wizarding England.  The press and public were not kind to Hermione, often focusing on her appearance or (non-existent) relationships with Ron or Harry. 

 

August 1998

 

A few weeks after Hermione’s departure, the Malfoys stood trial for their part in the war.  Harry spoke for Narcissa and Draco.  They were pardoned, but were forced to pay most of the Malfoy fortune in restitution.  Lucius Malfoy was sentenced to life in Azkaban for his part in the war.  

 

Draco had been prepared to spend time in Azkaban, as had Narcissa.  They were eternally grateful to have been spared that fate.  But, Draco was worried about his mother.  She was so quiet, most of the time Draco felt that he was by himself at the manor.  

 

Though Narcissa was clearly unhappy, she encouraged Draco to do something for himself.  She understood that so many decisions had been made for him, often with dire consequences, that he needed to choose his own path in order to become a better man.  Draco was reluctant to leave his mother, but she told him that if she knew he was happier, it would help her, too.  Draco’s mother had always put him ahead of herself, so he knew she would not be happy to see him languishing his days away in the dark manor. 

 

Draco had always been curious about the United States.  He loved the idea of being unknown.  His family’s wealth and fame had not served to make his life easier.  When he went to Diagon Alley to pick up a few supplies for his travels, reporters followed him.  People sneered at him.  A man shoved him into a wall as he walked by Flourish and Blotts.  In some ways, Draco felt he deserved people’s scorn.  He acknowledged that the Malfoys were an easy target for angry people.  He knew he needed to leave England.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

September 29, 1998

 

Hermione loved the wizarding village of Truchas.  The village was nestled high in the New Mexico mountains.  The pine trees were fragrant with sap.  The weather was warm during the day, but became quite chilly at night.  Hermione loved the endless blue sky and intense sunshine.  It was a much needed change from England.  

 

The village buildings were constructed of adobe, a material that was a mix of clay and straw.  The adobe buildings were cool in the summer and warm in the winter.  The village had a small plaza that housed shops and other businesses.  

 

Hermione rented a small adobe casita* from an older couple, the Garcias.  She was charmed by the small porch and turquoise front door.  An old wood rocker sat on the porch, along with a cord of firewood.  The casita had a small living room with a fireplace, a tiny, but fully equipped kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom.  The furniture in the house was simple, but comfortable.  Hermione enjoyed making a fire with the fragrant piñon* wood and reading until she couldn’t keep her eyes open.  

 

Though she was lonely, the people of Truchas had been kind to her.  Many of the residents knew who she was, but she had not been asked about the war or her part in it.  Her landlady, Mrs. Garcia, would often leave her fresh tortillas or a jar of green chile*.  Hermione appreciated the gesture, although she was still unsure about the spicy condiment.  

 

One benefit to her celebrity was her quick introduction to the elusive potions master, Jesus Machado.  He looked to be in his sixties, with a delicate hand and a quiet demeanor.  Hermione was relieved he wasn’t as critical as Severus Snape.  Though she loved potions, she did not think she could work with someone who made her feel like a fool.  She would not describe Jesus as sweet, but he was accepting and she felt that she would be able to learn from him.  Jesus worked in the lab twice a week and Hermione would assist him then.  She spent hours reading his notes on the local magical plants.  Some of the preparation techniques were unique to her, but overall she felt she was learning more about a subject that had always fascinated her.  

 

The rest of Hermione’s week was filled with reading and exploring the mountains that surrounded the village.  Cooking was something she had always enjoyed, so she ventured into Taos and purchased fruit, vegetables, fresh dairy and meat at the local market.  Hermione made herself delicious meals every day.  She began to gain weight.  Her cheeks were rosy and her hair began to shine. 

 

Part of the magic of the village was the slow pace of life.  Hermione had been in a race against the forces of evil for so long that she needed to slow down and figure out who she was.  Her strength of character helped her to understand that she needed to take care of herself before she could take care of others. 

 

 

October 10, 1998

 

Draco arrived in Los Angeles, California and stayed at the Four Seasons Hotel.  California was all sunny skies and beautiful people, but Draco felt he had missed the mark in choosing a location for his soul searching.  Women seemed to try to figure out how much he was worth in their appraisal of his outer appearance.  He was usually ignored once it was clear he wasn’t famous.  At least most Americans seemed in the dark about his notoriety.  A few times, people stared at him in recognition, but their eyes didn’t hold the hatred he had seen before he left England.

 

The hotel’s spa boasted a massage with ingredients from a remote region of the American Southwest. Draco wondered if the massage might help some of the lingering pain he felt deep in his bones.  While Draco took care to look his best, his body was exhausted and often in pain.  He had been subjected to duels with highly experienced and cruel Death Eaters that often ended in him being used as a magical punching bag.  He had been _Crucioed, Stupefied_ and bound in the aftermath of these duels.  With Voldemort in the manor, Draco had lost his appetite and ate the bare minimum of calories in order to survive.  Voldemort and the other Death Eaters were not above poisoning food to prove a point or punish someone.  

 

Draco’s massage therapist was a middle aged Hispanic woman named Sandra.  She was short and muscular.  She reminded Draco of Madame Pomfrey.  She greeted him and invited him to lay face down on the massage table.  The room was lit by candles that smelled of beeswax and sage.  A warm towel was placed on Draco’s lower half, while the massage therapist drizzled fragrant oil over his shoulders.  Sandra’s hands seemed to find the places where Draco felt the most pain.  She began by gently kneading his muscles, then added pressure until the muscles relaxed.  As Sandra massaged Draco, she quietly told the stories of how the massage ingredients helped people to heal from both physical pain and depression.   

 

As Draco listened to Sandra, he felt a surprising urge to cry.  For so long he had held himself together, even during his trial and his father’s imprisonment.  He tried to be a stable influence for his distraught mother.  During the massage he had a premonition that he needed to go and find this place of healing—and that he would begin to heal if he did so.  For the first time in his life, Draco was free to put himself first without regard to how he appeared to others as the heir to the House of Malfoy.  He let out a breath of relief.  He knew where he needed to go.           

 

_A.N.- A casita is Spanish for a small house.  Piñon is Spanish for pine.  Chile is a spicy pepper commonly used in New Mexican cuisine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our characters will meet in the next chapter...


	3. Chapter 3

November 2, 1998

 

Hermione awoke early on a chilly Friday morning.  Jesus didn’t work in the potions lab on Friday, so her day was free.  She pointed her wand at the small fireplace in her bedroom and started a fire.  After a year of living with Ron and Harry, Hermione now loved to sleep naked.  She stretched under the warm covers, then padded off to the bathroom to pee and shower.  A local witch had sold her a special shampoo for her type of hair.  Apparently, frizzy, thick hair was common in this region.  The shampoo smelled of pine and citrus.  It was a rich and uplifting smell.  It helped to soften and define her curls.

  

She looked down at her body as she showered.  Her body was filling out.  She had gained back any weight she had lost while on the run the previous year and had gained another twenty pounds on top of that.  She thought she might want to go easy on the extra goodies she had been enjoying, but she felt more like herself than she had in months.  Maybe her body was meant to look like it currently did.  Her breasts were full, she had a round butt and her thighs touched.  She looked like a woman, no longer like a scared, skinny teen.  It was a relief to look in the mirror and see a better version of herself, one she liked more and more every day.  After her shower, she spent time combing through her locks.  She used a thick, hydrating lotion on her legs, her butt, her tummy, her breasts and her arms to combat the dry mountain air.  She moisturized her face, then brushed on powder, blush, a touch of mascara, and a bit of pink lip-gloss.  

 

She dressed in a soft green wool sweater and jeans.  She wore brown leather boots.  Her clothing was practical, but the quality of the fabric was luxurious.  She had splurged on a few items she wore often.

 

She decided to read at Coffee High, the town café, and get breakfast there.  Coffee High made incredible baked goods and strong espresso.  She enjoyed the early morning bustle of the café and smell of bread baking and coffee brewing.  The café had a roaring fire on these cold mornings.  The walk from her casita to Coffee High took fifteen minutes.  She walked in, ordered a muffin and coffee and sat down to read.  

 

Hermione had been reading for an hour when the bells above the café door jingled announcing another customer.  She briefly looked up with a friendly smile on her face.  She could not believe what she was seeing.  Draco Malfoy had just walked into the café.  He saw her and did his own double take.  He gave her a shy smile and walked to the counter to order.  After he got his cinnamon roll and coffee, he approached Hermione.

  

“May I join you?” he asked.

 

“What are you doing in Truchas?” she wondered.

 

“I reckon the same as you, Granger.  Trying to get some perspective.”

 

“This is a great place for that.  This place forces you to think about your life and choices.  It’s been good for me to be here,” she confided.

 

“I can see that.  You were always beautiful but you look radiant.”  He looked down at his coffee and dipped a chunk of his cinnamon roll in the hot liquid.

  

Hermione didn’t know what to say to that.  This man had spent years looking down at her and insulting her publicly.  When she looked at him, Hermione knew he was sincere.  His face had lost that arrogant, facetious quality.  

 

“Are you staying here?” she asked him.    

 

“Yeah, I’m renting a little house a few minutes from here in the Garcia compound.  I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” he replied.

 

“That’s where I live, so I can take you over after we leave the café,” she told him.

 

“That would be great.  What do you do with yourself here in Truchas?” Draco asked.

 

“Well, I have an informal apprenticeship with Jesus Machado, the potions master.  But that’s only a couple of times a week.  I read a lot, hike, cook.”  Hermione took the final sip of her coffee.

 

“Can I get you another cup?” Draco asked.

 

“Oh, yeah, thank you, Malfoy.”  

 

Draco placed her cup in front of her.  _She smells brilliant_ , he thought to himself.  Draco sat back down and took a sip of his drink.

 

“So, I started off my travels in California.  I met a masseuse who told me about the healing plants and elements in this area of the country and I had the strangest feeling that I needed to come here.  So that night I packed my bags and got a portkey here the next morning.  And here I am.”

 

Hermione generally ignored people’s premonitions, visions and dreams, but she had learned to trust her gut.  Her gut told her Malfoy was right, he would get what he needed in this little village high in the mountains.  

 

Hermione and Draco walked back to the casitas.  Hermione pointed out what she knew of the village.  Draco listened to her and enjoyed the beautiful scenery: the mountain peaks in the distance, the pine trees and native shrubbery.  Draco loved the smell of the dry air.  It left him breathless, but he was able to keep up with Hermione.  Hermione stopped and offered him some water from her bag.  

 

“The altitude can tire you out and it’s easy to become dehydrated,” she explained.  

 

“Oh, yeah, I can feel that.  Thought maybe I was more out of shape than I am,” he said after he had taken a long swig of the water.  

 

Hermione took a drink after Draco.  He was surprised she’d share her personal bottle with him, but he liked that sense of familiarity.  

 

Hermione led Draco to his casita, which was very similar to her own.  

 

“I’ll let you settle in, Malfoy.  I’m in the casita with the turquoise door.”  His door was a dark red.  

 

He gave a lock of her hair a tug.  “Thanks for the enjoyable morning.  I’ll see you soon?”

 

“You can come over later for dinner if you’d like,” she said.  _He looks like he could use a good meal_ , she thought to herself.

 

“That would be really nice.”  Draco was thrilled that she seemed to want to spend more time with him.  

 

Hermione let herself out, considering what she could make for dinner.

 

 

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Around dusk, Draco knocked on Hermione’s door.  He could smell onion and garlic sautéing.  

 

“Come in, Malfoy!” she called out.  Draco let himself into her casita.  He had run back into town to find something to bring to dinner.  He found a lovely chocolate cake infused with a bit of spicy red chile, a local crop.  He had a sample of the cake at the store and loved it.  The spice made him feel alive, while the chocolate was a known favorite to his palate.  

 

“I brought dessert.  I hope that’s okay?” he asked.

 

“That’s great, actually.  I had a carton of ice cream, but this cake looks even better.”  Hermione laughed to herself.  Entertaining Draco Malfoy on a Friday night was the last way she had anticipated spending her evening, but she was oddly excited to get to know him.  He seemed to want to get to know her, too.  Hermione knew the war had been very hard on him.  She felt in her heart that she was doing the right thing in welcoming him into her life.

 

“I’m making us steaks and baked potatoes.  I like to sauté veggies and add them to the top of the potato.”  Hermione knew Draco had grown up eating gourmet food at most meals and didn’t know if he’d like the simple, but hearty, fare she favored.  

 

“Granger, this is the best thing I’ve smelled in years.  I can’t wait to eat.”

 

Hermione smiled at him. “Thanks.  Grab a drink and make yourself at home.”

 

Draco poured himself some wine and looked around her casita.  It looked a lot like his casita, but she had brought books and pictures with her.  She had a painting of a mountain landscape sitting above the fireplace.  He looked at it and saw the initials “H.G” written at the bottom right corner.  

 

“Did you paint this?” he asked Hermione.  He honestly thought it was really good.

 

“I have lots of time here to indulge my interests and I’ve always enjoyed drawing and painting...”  She sounded a bit embarrassed.

 

“I think it’s very compelling.  You used such dark colors, but it doesn’t feel sad, just very intense.”

 

“I painted it at twilight.  I love the quality of the light at that time of day.  I’m not sure what I was feeling, but I often paint to try to express my feelings in some other way.  I was kind of a mess when I got here, but glad to be away from all the unhappiness back home.”  

 

Draco thought about that.  He knew Hermione had suffered during the war.  He had witnessed her courage as she was tortured in his family’s home.  She looked so whole and healthy, but he knew she was trying to get over the war.

 

Hermione served their food.  Draco was starving. 

 

“I hope it’s okay,” she said to him.

 

Draco took a bite of the steak.  He could have cried.  It was seasoned and cooked to perfection.

 

“So good,” he said around a mouth full of food.

 

She laughed.  “I’m glad you approve.”

 

After a few bites, Draco began to feel more like a man and less like a starved dog.  He took a drink of the wine.

 

“Can I call you Hermione?  I feel weird calling you Granger.  Hermione seems friendlier and I’d like to offer you my friendship, if you’ll have it.”  

 

She smiled at him.  “Yes, _Draco_ , please call me Hermione.  I have a feeling that away from the expectations of the wizarding world we grew up in, we can be friends with whomever we want.  I admit that I was shocked to see you this morning, but I was excited to see you, too.  You seem different and I want to get to know you.”

 

“I know I’ve been awful to you and I’m sorry.  You represent the best of our people and I’ve treated you badly.  I know you don’t know this, but I’ve always admired you.”  Draco gave her a sincere smile as he finished his potato.  He hadn’t enjoyed food in so long, but he could imagine eating Hermione’s cooking every day.

 

“How so?” she asked him.  She smirked at him.  Hermione wanted to get a small rise out of Draco.

 

He smirked back at her.  “Well, _Hermione_ , you weren’t the top of our class for nothing.  You also were kind to the house elves, which I thought was silly back then, but now I know why you wanted them to have their freedom.”  He took another drink of wine.

 

“Do you want some coffee with the cake?” she asked.

 

“Please.” Draco cleared his throat.  “And even though we teased you mercilessly, I did always find you beautiful.  You have self-confidence born out of competence and knowing your own mind.”  Draco looked at Hermione and saw that she was staring down at the counter, unmoving.  After a moment, she turned and looked at him.  

 

“Thank you, Draco.  Those are the nicest words someone has said to me in months.  It means a lot that it’s you saying these things to me.  It’s been hard the past year and I feel that I’m trying to gain my footing.  I’ve been taking care of myself, trying to figure out what I need to do to move forward, but I’m still not sure.”  She cut two pieces of cake and put them on small plates.  She grabbed the forks and handed them to Draco.

 

“Would you mind if we ate in front of the fire?” he asked her. 

 

“No, that’s what I was thinking, too.  Would you take the cake over and I’ll bring the coffee?  How do you take it?”  She poured the dark brew into two mugs.

 

He took the cake to the coffee table.  “Cream and four sugars, please.”  Hermione laughed.

 

“Four sugars it is.  I take cream and one sugar, for future reference.”  Hermione studied Draco.  He was not a traditionally handsome man, but she did find this new Draco attractive.  Although he was still very thin, he had let his hair grow out a bit and wore it in a tousled style that suited his face.  She thought his hair looked a bit darker than it had earlier in his youth, less platinum and more ash blonde now.  His eyes were big and grey, with long lashes.  His nose and chin were too pointy to be considered handsome, but Hermione thought that if he gained some weight, his face would look less angular.  His skin was clear and his face was clean-shaven.  She liked that he was taller than her.  He had large hands.  His fingers were tapered and the nails were smooth.  He smelled good, too, like ylang ylang and male musk.  

 

Hermione took the coffee to the small table in front of the fire and sat down on the couch.  She picked up a plate of cake and smelled it.  She could smell the spice of the red chile.  She took a small bite.  Draco watched her.  He hoped she liked it.  She closed her eyes and moaned.  Draco’s eyes widened slightly.  

 

“That is delicious, Draco!  Have you had any?  It’s got this great spice to it.  It’s wonderful with the chocolate.”

 

Draco was relieved that she liked the cake.  “Yeah, I had a bite at the store.  I thought adding the chile to the chocolate cake was brilliant.”  He had been looking forward to this cake since he purchased it.  He took a big bite and chewed appreciatively.  He took a sip of the aromatic coffee.  _Is she good at everything?_ Draco thought to himself.

 

They chatted about the town and Draco asked questions about the surrounding mountains.  Finally, Hermione stifled a yawn, which Draco noticed.  

 

“It’s almost midnight!  I didn’t notice the time.  Can I help you clean up?” Draco wanted the night to go on, but he didn’t want to test his new friendship with Hermione.  

 

“It is late.”  Hermione accioed her wand and cast a quick cleaning spell in the kitchen.  

 

“I’m not sure what I’m doing tomorrow, but do you fancy coming over in the morning for more coffee and cake?”  

 

Draco grinned.  “Those are excellent breakfast plans, Miss Granger.  Is 8:00 too early?”

 

“I wake early, so 8:00 is perfect.”  Hermione stood and stretched her hands above her head.  Draco enjoyed the view of her breasts pushing against her soft sweater.  He got up and stood in front of her.  

 

“This was honestly one of the best evenings I’ve had in forever.”  He leaned in and kissed her forehead.  Hermione closed her eyes, her cheeks pinking after the light kiss.  

 

Draco walked over to the door, turned to Hermione and waved.  He shut the door and walked back to his cozy abode.

 


	4. Chapter 4

November 3, 1998

 

The next morning, Draco knocked on Hermione’s door at precisely 8:00 a.m.  He had woken feeling refreshed and excited to start the day with Hermione.  He was also looking forward to exploring the hiking trails.  He wore jeans and a black t-shirt with a thick grey fleece jacket.  He wore his comfortable dragon hide boots with a thick tread, appropriate for hiking.

 

Hermione decided to spend the day baking and writing letters to Harry, Ron and Professor McGonagall.  Though she had left England, she wanted to keep in touch with the people she loved.  Harry and Ron had started Auror training a few weeks before.  She was pleased for them, but glad to be away from the action.

 

Hermione woke at 6:30, her regular wake time.  She took a long shower, using a special conditioner infused with chamomile and vanilla.  The conditioner was purchased from the witch who made her shampoo.  Hermione didn’t use it every day, as it was very potent and expensive, but she loved the smoothness it gave her normally raucous tresses.  

 

After her shower, she brushed her teeth and combed through her smooth hair.  She braided her long hair in a French braid, to keep it out of her way while she baked.  She moisturized her skin, put on a bit of makeup and went to her closet to figure out what to wear.  She picked out a long brown dress, made of a cotton and spandex blend.  It had a cowl neckline and the dress hugged her new curves.  She enjoyed the way it kept her warm, but allowed her to move easily.  She put on a thick pair of socks and went out to the living room.  

 

She lit the fireplace, then made coffee using an espresso blend.  She took the cake out of the fridge.  Hermione took out her two favorite cookbooks to find recipes for French bread, peanut butter cookies, banana nut muffins and cheese and bacon scones.  Just as the coffee finished percolating, a quick knock sounded at her front door.    

 

She walked over to the door and opened it to find a smiling Draco.

 

“Hey, Draco,” she said.  He looked good this morning.  Relaxed.

 

“Good morning,” he replied.  

 

She turned around and walked over to the coffee maker.  He noticed her round behind in the long, clingy dress.  He imagined her sitting on his lap, with his head buried in her hair.

 

“You’re quiet this morning,” she said as she turned around with his sweet coffee.  

 

He chuckled.  “Oh, just gathering wool.  How did you sleep?”

 

“I was tired last night, so I slept soundly.  Are you ready for a slice of cake?  I also have some blueberry scones, if you’d like.” She brought out a tin with her homemade scones.

 

“I think I’d like both, if that’s not too gluttonous,” he said, smiling.

 

Hermione put out the cake and the tin of scones, along with two plates and forks.  She sat down at the small table and took a slow sip of coffee. She put a piece of the cake on her plate and took a bite.  Draco took a scone from the tin.

 

“Granger, this scone is superb!”  He happily took another bite, smiling at her.

 

“I’ll send you home with some baking this afternoon.  I like to spend time baking and writing letters at least once a week.”  She fondly remembered sitting with her grandmother when she was a girl, helping her bake for holidays.

 

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” he asked.

 

“My mum was, _is_ , a great cook.  She and my dad seemed to love to chat over a leisurely dinner every night.  On Sunday, my parents would make an elaborate brunch.  Sometimes friends or family would join us, sometimes it was just us.”  She looked at the cake and took another bite.

 

Draco wanted to ask her more, but he sensed that she didn’t want to elaborate.  He finished his scone and reached for another.  

 

“Do you mind?” he asked, pointing to the last scone.

 

“Go ahead.”  She was pleased that he preferred her scones.

 

“What are you going to do today, Mr. Malfoy?”

 

“I thought after breakfast I would do some hiking.  Do you have any suggestions about where I should start?” He wished she could join him, but he didn’t want to be too forward.   She seemed to have concrete plans.

 

“I have heard that there’s a hot spring near the Atalaya Trail, but I’ve never been able to find it.  Do you have your broom?  Maybe you could find it from up in the air.” She remembered watching Draco flying for the Slytherin Quidditch team.

 

“I do have my broom.  A dip in a hot spring sounds perfect.  If I find it I’ll take you back,” he said.

 

They talked for another hour, enjoying a discussion on the merits of fresh versus preserved plants in potions.  Hermione argued that fresh plants were more stable in potions, while Draco felt that preserved plants offered more potent power.  Hermione was thrilled to have someone besides a teacher to talk with about a subject she enjoyed.  Draco was thoughtful and curious about her life, which was a nice change.  Not often had someone shown such interest in her as a person.  She usually felt that people wanted her help, rather than just to talk with her.  

 

 

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Draco walked slowly up the steep trail.  The air was cold, but the day would warm up as it got closer to lunch.  Hermione had packed Draco a sandwich for his hike and insisted he take a bottle of water.  Periodically, Draco would stop and examine the mountain plants.  He saw deer, rabbits, and large birds.  After two hours of hiking, Draco decided to stop and eat the sandwich Hermione had packed for him.  He was going to attempt to get to the top of the summit, and then head back down.  

 

After lunch, Draco continued to hike up the trail.  He saw that the trail forked into two parts.  He decided to take his chances on the smaller path.  As he walked along the small path, he noticed a large rock painted with the Ancient Runes for water and peace.  He suspected he might be near the hot spring.  

 

Draco walked for another twenty minutes and was thrilled to hear the sound of water.  He passed through a large screen of pine trees and found a small pond of clear water.  A waterfall coming from the side of the mountain fed the pond.  Draco knelt down near the pond and felt the water.  It was warm and had a distinctly mineral smell.  

 

Draco knew he was alone and stripped off his clothing.  He stepped into the shallow edge of the pond, testing the water with his feet.  He felt like he was getting into a warm bath.  He continued into the pond until he was in the middle, where the water reached his shoulders.  He swam around the pond, and then noticed a small grouping of stones near the waterfall.  The water from the waterfall was wonderfully hot.  He let the splashing water pound his back.  He then went to the rocks and reclined in the water.  

 

Draco Malfoy, contrary to rumors at Hogwarts, had little practical knowledge of women.  He had always had an active imagination about sex, but had little time over the past few years to get to that point with any girl.  He had kissed Pansy Parkinson a few times, but didn’t feel their chemistry was right.  He imagined touching Hermione.  He imagined her naked body pressed up against him, his hands roving over her breasts, her back, her ass.  He knew she liked him, but he wanted her to feel attracted to him.  He didn’t want the friendship she shared with Potter and Weasley.  She had mothered those two.  He wanted her to want to touch him, to want his kisses.

 

Draco had a raging erection imagining Hermione naked and touching him.  He let his hand drift down to his erection, using his thumb and forefinger to rub the head.  His head fell back, while he imagined Hermione wrapping her lips around him, her pink tongue licking him like a lolli.  He used his whole hand to rub up and down his cock.  He sped up, and with a start he came so hard he shouted out, “Fuck!”  He watched his semen disappear into the water.  

 

The sun was starting to wane and he knew it was time to return.  He dressed and pulled his broom out of his extendable pack.  He stretched and realized his body felt great.  The combination of the hot water and the wanking had served to relax him.  He didn’t feel the small aches and pains he had become accustomed to.  He flew back to the casita, ready to tell Hermione about his day.

 

 

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Hermione had written her letters and baked bread, muffins and scones.  She was putting in her last batch of cookies when there was a knock at the door.  She thought it might be Draco.  

 

“Come in!” she called out.  Draco entered the cabin, carrying food.

 

“It smells like a bakery in here!  How was your day?” he asked Hermione, placing the food on the table.

 

“It was very productive.  I got my letters written and my baking done.  I need to pull out this last batch of cookies in a few minutes.  Did Mrs. Garcia bring you food?”  

 

She had white sprinkled over the front of her dress, probably flour or powdered sugar.  Her braid held her hair back admirably, but a few curly tendrils were escaping along her face and near her ears.

 

“She was walking it over when I came back from my hike.  She said it was beef stew and tortillas.  It smells really good and I thought you might like to share it with me.” 

 

Draco hoped she would share with him.  He was excited to tell her about the hot spring.  

 

“That’s perfect.  You have to tell me about your hike.  Did you find the hot spring?” 

 

She poured him a glass of water with a sprig of mint crushed at the bottom of the glass.  He looked at her curiously and she said, “The mint will help cool you off.  It’s tasty, too.”

 

“I found the hot spring, Hermione!  It’s so warm and relaxing.  Will you go back with me tomorrow?” He wondered if the spring water had an aphrodisiac property.  He didn’t think he’d tell her about that part of his experience.

 

“Yeah, I can’t wait!  I can’t believe I wasn’t able to find it.  The locals said they wouldn’t show me where it was, I would have to find it myself.”  

 

She had some lingering pain from the war, but most of her pain now was the mental variety.  But she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to check out this local legend.

 

Hermione pulled out the last batch of cookies and turned off the oven.  She got out two bowls and spoons.  She served the beef stew and put the tortillas on a plate.

 

“Her tortillas are amazing.  Have you had them before?” she asked.

 

“No, I haven’t.  Are they like naan bread?”

 

“Similar, but flatter.  They’re good for scooping up food.  She uses lard in her tortillas, so they actually taste really rich.  I’m still getting used to the spicy chile everyone around here eats, but I like it.  I hear you build up tolerance.”  

 

Hermione took a bite of the stew. “Yum.”

 

Draco thought the stew was good.  He loved the tortillas.  He could’ve eaten all of them, plus another six.  Hermione grabbed a bit of butter from the kitchen.  

 

“I like a bit of butter on a hot tortilla,” she explained.

 

Draco liked it, too.  The meal was good, not as good as the meal Hermione had made the previous night, but comforting and tasty nonetheless.

 

“Do you want to watch a movie tonight?”  

 

“Sure, but I don’t know what that is.” Draco had a recollection of movies being mentioned by some of the half-bloods in his house. 

 

“Oh.  Well, it’s kind of like a play, but more realistic.  It plays on a television, a TV.  I have a TV and VCR in my bedroom, if you don’t mind hanging out on my bed.” 

 

Hermione was not sure about inviting Draco into her bedroom, but didn’t think he would do anything untoward.

 

Draco laughed and winked at her.  “I’m game.  You can introduce me to your favorite movie.”

 

She laughed.  “Ok, Malfoy, don’t get too excited.  I’ll probably fall asleep halfway through the movie.  Do you want to sample some cookies?”  Hermione took a few off the baking sheet and put them on a plate for Draco to try.

 

“You know I do.”  He took a bite of the peanut butter cookie.  It was moist and chewy.  “Did you make any cookies for yourself?”

 

Hermione swatted at his arm.  “You can eat as many as you like, but I would like to try one.”

 

Hermione cleaned up the kitchen the Muggle way, while Draco told her about his hike.  He was so natural with her, and sweet.  She had no idea Draco Malfoy could be sweet.  He offered to dry the dishes when he figured out what she was doing.  When they finished cleaning up, Hermione led Draco to her bedroom.

 

Draco thought her room seemed similar to his own.  She had added a down comforter and soft, fluffy pillows.  She had a knitted throw at the foot of her bed.  Draco thought her room smelled like Hermione.  He was looking forward to being in close contact with her.

 

Hermione put a tape into the VCR.  “I thought we could watch Before Sunrise.  It’s a romantic movie.  I hope that’s ok?  If you don’t like it, we can try something else.”

 

Draco didn’t care what they were going to watch.  Hermione settled in amongst the pillows.  Draco did the same.

 

Draco couldn’t believe the wizarding world did not have movies.  This was phenomenal.  He loved how real everything in the movie was.  The story was so apt, too.  He felt like the male character, serendipitously involved with this fascinating woman.  

 

Draco looked over at Hermione, who was flexing and stretching her foot.  He moved towards the end of the bed and grabbed her foot.  He sat cross-legged and placed her foot in his lap.

 

“Do you mind?” he asked Hermione.

 

“Please,” she said.

 

He took off her sock and began to knead her foot.  She let out a sigh.  Her feet were pretty.  Her toes were adorably painted with bright pink polish and her skin was smooth.  She giggled a little as he pulled at her toes.  He went back to kneading her arch and rubbing his knuckles along her heel.  She made little noises that were giving him an erection.  The room was fairly dark, so he thought she might not notice.

 

He pulled her other foot into his lap and took off her sock.  He kneaded this foot, enjoying her sighs and deep breathing.  He admitted he was only partially watching the movie.  He moved his hands up to her calf, massaging the muscle gently.  Her skin was so smooth and warm.  She smelled musky and delicious.

 

Hermione was trying not to jump into Draco’s lap and rub her body all over him.  She could feel wetness between her legs and hoped he didn’t notice.  She could smell her own desire.  While she had been in close contact with Ron and Harry for years, nothing she had done with any boy compared to this.  She was both relaxed and on edge.  

 

Draco continued to lightly massage her feet and calves, mostly because he didn’t want to stop touching her.  He didn’t want to make Hermione uncomfortable and he didn’t really know how to proceed in this type of situation.

 

Eventually the movie ended and he moved to the edge of the bed.  

 

“That is the most relaxed I’ve felt, well, ever.  Thank you, Draco.”  Hermione lit a weak _lumos_ and smiled at him.  She got up to walk him to the door.  Hermione quickly kissed his cheek as he made to leave the casita.

 

He made the short walk feeling as content as he had ever felt.        

                    

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

November 4, 1998

 

The next morning, Draco woke up before the sun rose.  He had fallen asleep thinking of Hermione and woke up thinking of her.  Now that he was free to be around her without fear of punishment, he wanted to be around her constantly.  She was so giving and lovely.  Draco thought he might have something to offer her as well.  He would do what he could to show her he was a man with merit.  

 

He used the bathroom, then made himself a strong cup of tea.  His casita was stocked with kitchen staples.  Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to cook, but he did toast some bread for his breakfast.  He slathered his toast in strawberry jam.  

 

Draco lit a fire in the fireplace with a quick spell and lay on the sofa in front of the toasty fire.  He let his thoughts drift to Hermione.  As if she had heard his thoughts, a knock sounded at his door.  He opened it to find a rosy-cheeked Hermione.

 

“Did I wake you?” she asked him.  

 

“No, I couldn’t sleep last night.” He was aware that his pajama pants were thin.  

 

Hermione looked at him with concern.  “Oh, are you feeling okay?”  

 

“I’m fine.  I suppose I was thinking about the movie.  We’ll have to do that again.” 

 

She smiled at him.  “Yeah, movies are a fun way to spend an evening.  So, I was checking the weather report and saw that it’s supposed to snow this afternoon.  Did you want to hike up sooner, to avoid hiking in the snow?”

 

“Sure.  I’ll get dressed and we can go.” 

 

Hermione went back to her casita to get supplies for the hike and finish getting ready.  She dressed in olive green corduroy pants, a thin cream wool sweater, a cream fleece scarf and her black puffy jacket.  She braided her hair in a loose side braid.  She didn’t wear makeup, knowing she’d be swimming, but she did add a bit of gloss for moisture.  

 

Draco knocked as Hermione was lacing up her hiking boots.  He let himself in.

 

“Are you ready?” he asked her.  He noticed wrapped food, towels and a blanket on her coffee table.

 

“Let me get my backpack and we can go.” 

 

“I have an extendable bag.  I’ll carry your supplies,” he said, walking towards her coffee table.

 

They left the casita and headed towards the Atalaya Trail.  Hermione and Draco chatted about potions theory, his thoughts so far on Truchas and what he experienced in California.  Draco was hungry, but wanted to get to the hot spring first.  Finally they reached the fork in the trail, where Draco remembered turning towards the less tread path.  

 

“We’ll be there in about twenty minutes, Hermione,” he said, grabbing her hand to lead her on the hot springs path.  She continued to hold his hand as they walked, interlacing her fingers with his.  Her hands were dry and warm, while he felt his hands beginning to sweat with his excitement over the close contact with Hermione.  She gave his hand a squeeze when she saw the runes for water and peace at the side of the path.  A few minutes later they saw a grouping of trees.  Draco pulled her towards the trees and the sound of water splashing.  

 

“Oh, Draco, this is breathtaking!”  Hermione walked around examining the pond.  Draco got out the blanket and food, arranging it a few feet from the water.

 

“Do you mind if we eat?  I’m starved,” he said.

 

“Me, too.”  Hermione sat on the blanket.  They ate their sandwiches and drank water from their water bottles.  Hermione pulled out a few cookies.  Draco ate four while Hermione watched him with amusement.

 

While Draco finished his last cookie, Hermione began to undress.  Draco was expecting a swimming suit under her clothes and was surprised when she got down to bra and panties.  She had her back to Draco when she pulled her panties off and undid the closure on her bra, let them drop to the blanket, and stepped into the water.  Hermione was quickly up to her shoulders, when she turned around and asked, “Are you coming in?”

 

Draco had thought he’d leave his boxers on when they swam, but felt like he should brave nudity as she had so bravely done.  Unfortunately, Draco had a raging hard-on after watching Hermione undress in front of him.  While she was facing away from him, he hurriedly undressed and rushed into the water.  She turned around when he was waist-deep in the water.  

 

“I have some regular pain that started during the war that was eased during my time in the hot springs yesterday,” he said to her when he got closer.  

 

Draco had seen Hermione tortured before his very eyes and knew she must have some residual pain from the repeated _Crucios_ done by his sick Aunt Bellatrix.  Bellatrix had tortured Draco enough that he knew about the muscle spasms and nerve sensitivity Hermione must also endure.  She didn’t say anything about her pain, although Draco could see she sympathized with him.

 

“Where do you feel the most pain?” she asked him.

 

“My back and neck, mostly.”  Draco watched her walk closer to him. 

 

“I’ve been reading about physical therapy in conjunction with potions.  They’re making advances in pain therapy for those of us who have been subjected to multiple uses of strong curses.”  

 

“What is physical therapy?” Draco asked her.

 

“Massage, special exercises, or heat to help people deal with their physical pain.  I go for regular massages with a witch in the village.  I’ve noticed the massages help with headaches and anxiety.  Would you let me try some of the techniques she uses, on you, in the water?  I think it could be helpful.”  Hermione moved towards Draco’s back when he nodded his head in assent. 

 

She started by gently running her hands through his hair.  She wanted him to get used to her touch.  She ran her hands over his neck, his shoulders, and his back.  She felt him shiver.  

 

In a low voice, she asked, “Is this okay?”

 

His voice was hoarse when he answered. “Yeah.”

 

She continued to massage him, her touch becoming firmer and firmer.  At one point, he almost felt pain, but that pain gave way to a feeling of warmth where she had been working.  

 

Draco was a man who had not been shown a great deal of care in his life.  He knew his mother would sacrifice for him, but she was not very affectionate.  His father had ignored him most of his life, unless he was bullying Draco into doing something.  Draco had enjoyed some male camaraderie in Slytherin House, but generally he had been lonely for the type of attention given with love.  Hermione might not love him, but she did show a regard for him that felt foreign, but sublime.

 

All too soon, she finished her massage.  She quickly wrapped her arms around him from behind and squeezed, then swam towards the hot waterfall.  Draco turned to see her standing under the waterfall, her long braid doing nothing to hide his view of her body.  Draco watched Hermione, her eyes closed, as she let the stream of water run over her body.  He could clearly see her breasts, full, with large pink nipples.  She opened her eyes and saw him looking at her.  She laughed and dove into the water, swimming towards him.  He smirked back at her.

 

“Nice show, Granger.”

 

“Ha, ha, Malfoy.  You gave _me_ a nice show when you got into the water.”  She splashed some water towards him.

 

Draco had hoped she hadn’t noticed his boner when he got into the water.  

 

“You stripped down to nothing!  I wasn’t expecting you to undress in front of me.”  He felt betrayed by his body. 

 

“I’ve heard stories of your conquests for years, Draco.  You aren’t fooling me.” She assumed Draco was used to nudity.  She wasn’t shy about her body, but she didn’t want Draco to think she was coming on too strong.

 

“The last thing on my mind the past few years was sex.  I was surrounded by so much violence last year, I barely ate, hardly slept.  I can honestly tell you that this is the most relaxed I’ve been in years.”  Draco hoped she could forgive his lack of experience.

 

In a low voice, she confided, “I understand, Draco.  During our time on the run, I was so scared, cold and hungry, the last thing I worried about was sex.  I wanted to survive.  It would make me so angry to read about my supposed relationships with Ron and Harry.  I honestly couldn’t have given a shit about sleeping with them, but our time on the run was romanticized.  I don’t judge you, Draco.”

 

While they were talking, a light snow began to fall.  Neither noticed because of the heat of the water.  Both Draco and Hermione noticed it was snowing at the same time.  He reached out and grabbed her hand.  

 

“This is perfect.”  Hermione smiled at him.  

 

He agreed.    

 

 

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Due to the snow, they decided to Apparate to her casita.  Hermione asked if Draco wanted to stay for a cup of hot chocolate.  She lit the fireplace with her wand, then began to make a complicated looking concoction of milk, cream, grated chocolate and cinnamon.  She whisked it until it was frothy and hot, then poured it into two mugs.  She handed Draco a mug, then sat down to enjoy her drink.

 

Draco finished his hot chocolate after Hermione.  He put his mug on the coffee table and tried to get comfortable, but the couch was too small to accommodate him.

 

“I’m relaxed and sleepy,” Hermione said, grabbing Draco’s hand.  She tugged him towards her bedroom.  “Napping while it’s snowing is my favorite lazy day activity.”

 

Draco chuckled and let her lead him into the bedroom.  They shucked off their shoes and got under the covers.  Hermione faced away from Draco, towards the window, which showcased flurries of snow.  He moved towards her and wrapped an arm around her waist.  She sighed and pushed herself closer to him.  Draco enjoyed the soft warmth of Hermione’s body.  He rubbed lazy circles on her stomach with his thumb.  Soon he found himself drifting off to sleep, lulled by her even breathing.

 

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Draco woke when it was already dark outside.  He could hear Hermione in the bathroom, running the water.  She came back into the bedroom and quietly began to change.  Draco watched her pull off her pants, sweater and bra.  She grabbed a pair of cotton yoga pants and a t-shirt off a chair.  

 

“I like what you’re wearing.  No need to change,” Draco said.

 

Hermione jumped slightly.  “Malfoy!  You scared me.  I thought you were asleep.” 

 

She pulled on the t-shirt and sat at the edge of the bed, facing him.  

 

Draco sat up.  He wished she would crawl back into the bed with him.

 

“I am amazingly hungry,” she said.  “I was going to make a pizza.”

 

Draco loved pizza, but his parents had found it too plebian to serve in the manor.  

 

“How am I ever going to leave here if you keep feeding me like this?” he asked her.  Pulling on her pants, she laughed.

 

She began to walk out of the room.  “If you keep giving me foot massages, I may not let _you_ leave.”

 

Draco got out of bed.  He used her bathroom, looking in her medicine cabinet and in the shower.  He came out of the bathroom to find Hermione rolling out dough in the kitchen.  He watched her work.  She cooked with such happiness.  

 

“Do you want to help me?” she asked him.

 

“Sure.  I’m not sure I can do much,” he said.

 

Hermione handed him a knife, a tomato and a few leaves of basil.  

 

“Chop the tomatoes into thin slices and the basil into ribbons.”  She knew Draco could do this task.  She’d seen him prepare potion ingredients with a fine hand.  He began his task while she pushed the dough onto a pan.  She pulled a chunk of mozzarella out of the fridge and began to shred it.

 

Draco tossed a few shreds of cheese into his mouth.  “This cheese is delicious.”

 

Hermione admitted that she made a batch of mozzarella a few days before.

 

“Seriously, you made this?  I’m impressed.”  Draco knew people made these ingredients, but he didn’t know anybody that could actually do it.

 

“It’s less complicated than making Polyjuice potion,” she joked.

 

When Draco was done slicing, Hermione had him place the ingredients on the dough.  She added cheese to the top of the pizza.  She gave the pizza a drizzle of olive oil, salt and pepper, then put it in the oven to bake.

 

“Do you want some wine?” she asked him.  

 

“Yeah, that would be great,” he said.  She got out a bottle of white wine and two glasses and handed them to him.  He poured them both generous helpings of wine and they sat at the table, waiting for the pizza.

 

“I really like you.”

 

“I really like you, too,” she whispered back. 

 

“Why do you seem sad?” he wondered out loud.

 

“I’m a mess, Draco.  I lost my parents and so many other people this past year.  I don’t know what I have to offer you.”  She looked at him with wet eyes.  

 

He stood up and went over to her chair and knelt by her.  

 

“You know all of my mistakes.  They’re public knowledge.  I have my mother, but the two of us are pariahs.  When I’m with you, I don’t feel alone.  I know we’re just getting to know each other, but I think there might be something there.”  He squeezed her hands and she squeezed back.  

 

“I feel a connection with you, Draco.  I’m willing to explore it.” 

 

After dinner, Hermione suggested they enjoy a fire by the outdoor chiminea*.  She used her wand to stretch and cushion the rocking chair on the porch.  They brought out a blanket and cuddled under it.  Draco put his arm around her and she leaned into his body.  

 

The snow had stopped and they could see the stars.  Draco described what he could see of the constellations.  Hermione wanted nothing more than to have Draco’s lips pressed against hers, but she felt heavy after the emotional day they’d shared.  Draco must have understood this, because he didn’t press her for more.  When the fire began to die out, Draco escorted Hermione back into the house, and took his leave. 

     

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A chiminea is an outdoor fireplace.


	6. Chapter 6

November 5, 1998

 

When Draco woke, he noticed a note hovering next to his bed.  He grabbed it.

 

_I went to Taos to do my shopping for the week.  Your house was so quiet I knew you were asleep.  I’ll be back in the afternoon.  Coffee High does a great huevos rancheros* for breakfast.  I know you’ll like it.    -H_

 

Draco was pleased Hermione wanted him to know where she was.  He wanted to do something nice for her today.  He would explore the stores on the plaza and see if he could find something for her.

 

Hermione wasn’t sure why she had let things get so heavy with Draco when he admitted his feelings for her the night before.  It was almost like she wanted to see if he would still want her, despite her issues.  She knew he had issues, too, but he seemed to hold himself together well.  In the short time they had been friends, she felt a connection to him.  She would open her heart to Draco, as scary as that was to do.  She feared losing another person, but instinctively she knew she would have to give herself over to this relationship if it was going to be successful.  

 

While she went from store to store picking up her items, she spied a gorgeous lingerie set.  Hermione knew that eventually, if she and Draco continued their relationship, they would be great in bed.  The past few nights she had fallen asleep after touching herself, imagining Draco touching her.  She was pleased he found her beautiful.  She relished the way his gaze roved over her body.  She bought the set.

 

Hermione treated herself to lunch at a French bistro that served the most delectable savory crepes and espresso.  While she was in the bistro, she noticed a man smiling appreciatively at her.  When she was walking out, he gave her a wink.  She chuckled to herself.  

 

She Disapparated to her casita with her hands full of bags.  She saw Draco walking towards her from his casita.

 

“Let me help you,” he said, grabbing bags from her.

 

Hermione opened the door to the casita and took the bags to the kitchen table.

 

“How has your day been so far?” she asked Draco, smiling at him.  He put the bags down and began to hand her groceries from her bags.

 

“Pretty good.  I had a slow morning.  I ate at the café, like you suggested.  After that, I walked around the plaza,” he said, handing her a package of Parmesan cheese.

 

“I had a nice morning of shopping in Taos.  You should come with me next week, we’ll have lunch at my favorite little bistro.”  She took the food Draco handed her and put it in the refrigerator.

 

Draco watched Hermione putting away the groceries.  She was wearing a pair of tight jeans, leather boots with a small heel, and a cashmere sweater in dark purple.  The sweater had a deep V-neck, which showcased her ample cleavage.  Her long hair hung in ringlets down her back.  Dark, thick lashes framed her big eyes.  Her nose was straight and even, with a smattering of freckles along the bridge.  But her lips were the best part of her face.  The bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top lip.  Her lips were pink and moist.  And even though he had teased her about her teeth in their youth, she had straight, white teeth now.  She was the type of woman Draco could imagine getting sexier with age.

 

Draco was enjoying watching Hermione when he pulled out something silky from a bag.  He looked down and saw that he was holding a very skimpy pair of knickers.  Hermione turned around and saw him holding her sexy purchase in his hand. 

 

“Oh!” she squeaked.  Draco looked at her and stuffed the knickers back into the bag.

 

He looked away for a second, put the bag down and stalked towards Hermione.  He backed her against the wall, his hands slamming down on either side of her head.  His body pushed against hers.  Draco kissed her hard, his lips bruising hers.  His tongue pushed into her mouth.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her.  Hermione’s tongue danced with Draco’s.  He explored her mouth, his hands moving into her hair, pulling her head close.  Draco ground his hard cock into her.  He felt her gasp into his mouth.  Draco pulled away from Hermione’s mouth, trying to catch his breath.  Her hard breathing was pushing her round breasts into his chest.  

 

“We are going to finish putting away your food, then I am going to ravish you,” Draco said and reluctantly pulled away from Hermione.  

 

“Yes, sir,” she said, giving him a smirk.  Hermione was so turned on by his aggressiveness.  

 

She used her wand to put away the rest of the food.  In an instant, Draco was walking back towards her bedroom. 

 

Draco sat on the bed and tugged her onto his lap.  He nuzzled her neck, lightly kissing and nipping.  She ran her hands through his fine hair, her nails lightly scraping his scalp.  Draco ran his hands over her back, then pushed her onto the bed.  He crawled over her body, until they were face to face.  He kissed her again, letting his weight settle over her.  She spread her legs so she could feel his erection between their bodies.  They continued to kiss, Draco trying to keep his wits about him.  Draco rolled off her, so he could explore her body with his hands.  

 

They lay face to face on their sides, both of them trying to control their breathing.  Draco gently ran his hand along her arms, over her hips and back up.  Hermione knew Draco was fascinated by her curves and let him explore.  She’d have time to explore his body later.  He toyed with the vee of her sweater, grazing the tops of her breasts.  He delicately traced her throat and collarbone.  He leaned in to kiss Hermione, wrapping his arm around her back and tugging her closer.  She kissed him with lazy twirls of her tongue, his hand wandering down to cup her ass.  Hermione looked forward to having his hands on her bare skin.  

 

Draco found himself pushing into the juncture between Hermione’s thighs.  She moaned and rubbed herself against him.  

 

“Mmm, that feels good Draco,” she whispered.  

 

Draco pulled her on top of him and continued to kiss her.  They could grind their bodies together while he explored her round, biteable ass.  She leaned her elbows on either side of his face, bracing her body so she could writhe against him, rubbing her clit against his cock.  Draco reached under her sweater and unhooked her bra.  Hermione sat up on Draco, pulled her sweater off and threw the bra to the floor.

 

“Don’t move for a moment,” he murmured, looking up at Hermione.  His hand rested on her waist.  “You are luscious.  How did I ever stay away from you?”

 

Hermione closed her eyes and let her head fall back.  Draco reached up and cupped her breasts.  She moaned and began rocking her pelvis back and forth.  He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples.  Her breasts swayed with her rocking, little moans and heavy breaths coming out of her mouth.  Draco watched her dance on top of his body, enjoying the sight of her breasts.  He pulled her breasts down to his mouth to suck on the hard, pink nipples.  Hermione continued to rub herself on him, beginning to speed up.  Draco sucked on one nipple hard and pinched the other one and Hermione screamed.

 

“Merlin!  Yes, yes, yes!”  Draco could actually feel her wetness through their pants.  She slumped over him, breathing hard into his ear.

 

“Oh.  Wow,” she breathed.  “That was incredible.” 

 

Hermione got off of Draco and lay down next to him.  Her breath came out in long exhales.

 

“I want you to watch me jack off.  When you’re ready to touch me, I want you to remember what I like.”  Draco knew Hermione was excited by his assertiveness.

 

Hermione turned towards him as he pulled his pants down.  His cock sprang free of his clothes.  It was thick and red, with a large, smooth head.  Draco had a thick patch of hair at the base of his penis and large balls.  The slit of his penis glistened with pre-cum.  He fisted his penis and began to work his hand up and down, swiping the head with a thumb every few strokes.  Hermione watched his face.  He looked so serious, but his breathing was hard.  He began to stoke faster, tightening his grip.  Finally, his body stiffened and he cried out.  White cum shot out of his penis, covering his hand and belly.  When his breathing evened out, he grabbed his wand with his clean hand and muttered a cleaning spell.  

 

Hermione leaned over and kissed him.  She got up and went into the bathroom.  Draco loved watching her full breasts as she walked.  She came back from the bathroom in a robe.  Draco had redressed and was lounging on the bed.  Hermione sat next to him.

 

“I got you something while I was in town today,” Draco said, giving her a small, flat box.  

 

Hermione opened the box to find a pair of silver hoops with chunks of turquoise studded in the silver.  They were artsy and earthy and exactly what she would’ve picked for herself.

 

“I love them, Draco.  Thank you,” she said.  She put them on.  “What do you think?”

 

“You’re gorgeous.”  He pulled her hair away from her ears to see the earrings, then placed a kiss on her temple.

  

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The couple decided to scrounge a meal of leftovers from Hermione’s kitchen.  They sat at the kitchen table and ate beef stew and pizza, cookies and chocolate cake.  

 

Draco had read many books on sex.  They were a common staple in the Slytherin boys’ dorm.  He was curious about her knowledge of sex.

 

She must have been curious about his knowledge, too.  

 

“Draco, do you know the game Twenty Questions?”  She had a sassy glint in her eyes as she looked at him.

 

“I do.  Would you like to play, Miss Granger?”  He was glad she was as inquisitive as he.

 

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I’ll start.  When was your first kiss?”

 

“Fourth year, after the Yule Ball.  Pansy Parkinson,” he responded.

 

“Miss Granger, who was your first kiss?”

 

“Viktor Krum.  A few days after the Yule Ball.  Next question.  How many girls have you kissed?”

 

He thought, “One.  Well, now two.”

 

Hermione was surprised.  

 

“You?” he said.

 

“Well, four, including you.  But I have never been kissed as thoroughly as you kissed me tonight.”  She smiled at him.  “How far did you go with Pansy?”

 

“Only kissing,” he said.  “What is the farthest you’ve gone before?”

 

“Breasts were touched,” she said.  “My turn.  Who did you have a crush on at Hogwarts?”

 

Draco laughed.  “Well, before things got awful, I liked any girl with big breasts.  I had a weird crush on Millicent Bulstrode first year.”

 

Hermione remembered the awkward way Millicent fit into her shirts.  She giggled.  

 

Draco asked, “What is your favorite body part?”

 

“I like my waist.  I didn’t know I had an hourglass figure until I put on some weight.”  Draco loved the way her waist narrowed under her ribs and flared out at her hips.

 

Hermione asked, “What was your favorite part about tonight?”

 

“Watching you come.  Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”  He grabbed her hand.  “What about you?”

 

“Your passion.  The way you took charge.  That really turned me on.”  She shyly looked at him.

 

He squeezed her hand.  “I thought it was the right thing to do.  It seemed to free you to be in the moment.”

 

“How do you know me so well, Draco?” 

 

“I’ve been watching you for years, Hermione.  Do you remember getting a pink rose for Valentine’s Day sixth year?” he asked.

 

“I do.  I didn’t know who sent it.”  Did Draco send her the flower she had pressed in her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_?

 

“I sent it to you.  I was having a horrible day and you gave me a reassuring smile.  I’m sure I didn’t reciprocate, but I really needed that smile.  It meant a lot coming from you.” Draco had received a letter from his mother that morning about the vanishing cabinet, urging him to do what he needed to fix it.

 

Draco pulled Hermione to her feet and led her to the sofa.  She sat down and Draco laid his head in her lap, his legs hanging off the arm of the cozy couch.  She combed her fingers through his hair.

 

“Keep doing that,” he murmured, closing his eyes.  

 

“Do you have any fantasies?” she asked him.

 

“I had a great one about you sucking me off in the hot spring,” he replied.

 

“Really… I think that idea has merit,” she whispered.

 

“What is your fantasy, Hermione?”

 

“It’s embarrassing,” she said.

 

He laughed.  “I doubt it.  It’s probably very hot, knowing your active imagination.”

 

“Are you familiar with _soixante-neuf_?” she asked.

 

Draco groaned.  “You are killing me, witch.”

 

“Too much?” Hermione asked.

 

He looked up at her.  “No, not too much.  I want to do that and more.”

 

Her fingers explored his face.  Her touch was a healing balm to him.  He was not going to let this go.  Now that he had an idea of the type of life he might have with this Muggle-born goddess, he was going to fight to keep her by his side.

 

 

 

November 6, 1998

 

Draco woke up on Hermione’s couch, a crick in his neck.  She had covered him with a thick blanket.  He remembered that she was going to work in the lab with Jesus Machado today.  Sitting up, Draco stretched his arms above his head.  

 

Draco noticed Hermione had left him coffee in a travel mug and a couple of muffins on a plate.  He used her bathroom.  While he washed his hands, he looked into the mirror and noticed his face looked less gaunt and he’d lost the dark circles around his eyes.  He knew that change in his appearance was due to Hermione’s hearty cooking and from the happiness he had experienced being with her.  

 

As he ate the breakfast she had left out for him, he thought about what they had done the previous evening.  He recalled every touch, every word.  Finally, he decided it was time to start his day.  He washed and put away the dishes he’d used, then headed back to his casita.

 

When he walked up to the door, he saw an owl waiting for him.  The owl was Narcissa Malfoy’s.  The haughty bird let him take the letter off its leg, then flew away.

 

_Draco,_

_Your father was killed in Azkaban.  Please come home to attend his funeral and help me to sort out what remains of the Malfoy estate.  I’ve enclosed a portkey for Tuesday morning, 6:00 a.m. your time._

_Love,_

_Mother_

 

 

Draco sat on his sofa looking at the note.  His father was lost to him anyway, but he felt a sense of moroseness at the loss.  Part of his unhappiness was knowing he would have to leave Hermione.  He would come back to her after he helped his mother sort through the sure-to-be mess Lucius had left his family.  

 

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Hermione left the potions lab thinking about Draco.  He made her feel so beautiful and desirable.  Jesus had noticed her inattention that morning and had her perform mundane tasks, instead of the detailed work he had come to expect from her.  Usually that kind of mild rebuke bothered Hermione, but she was just too exhilarated to care.    

 

She went to Draco’s casita first to see if he wanted go into the village for dinner.  She knocked on his red door.  

 

He opened the door and gave her a small smile.  “Hey.”

 

“What is it?” she asked him.  He handed her the letter.

 

He sat on the couch and Hermione sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.  

 

“I’m sorry, Draco.”  She felt for Draco, even though she had thought his father was a monster.  

 

He breathed in her scent, enjoying the warmth of her body and her closeness.

 

“He was already lost to us.  The Malfoy finances are going to be a right mess.  I’m the legal heir, so I have to deal with the solicitors and bank.”  Draco wrapped his arms around her waist.

 

“When do you leave?” Hermione asked.

 

“Early tomorrow morning.  Let’s make the most of tonight.  I want to take you out for dinner.  We’ll go somewhere posh.” 

 

He looked at her, then lightly kissed her chin.  She nuzzled his face with her own, relishing his touch.  

 

“Give me an hour, then come by for me,” she said, getting up and walking to the door.

 

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Hermione quickly showered.  She jumped out and brushed through her long hair, slathered a jasmine and patchouli lotion all over and tried to figure out what she was going to wear.  She wanted to wear something that complimented the earrings from Draco.  She had bought a clingy, charcoal grey dress a few weeks ago.  The jersey fabric hugged her curves and highlighted her hourglass figure.  The deep scoop of the neckline showed off her plump breasts.  Because it was cold, she would wear black tights and high-heeled leather boots.  With that settled, Hermione went back into the bathroom to put on her makeup.   

 

Hermione brushed on powder and blush, stroked two coats of black mascara on her long lashes and decided to play up her lips, swiping on a coat of plum hued lipstick.  She twisted her hair into a French twist, letting a few loose tendrils frame her face.

 

Draco knocked and let himself in.

 

“I’m almost ready.  Come in and talk to me,” she called out.

 

Hermione was slipping on her dress when Draco came into her bedroom.  He stood in the doorway, looked at her half dressed state and reconsidered going to dinner.  She sat on the edge of her bed to put on her boots.

 

“You look handsome,” she said, smiling at him.

 

He had worn a pair of black slacks with a light grey dress shirt.  He had left the top button open.  He wore a buttery soft black leather jacket and a green cashmere scarf.  He completed the look with his traditional dragon hide boots.  

 

Draco loved watching Hermione get ready for their date.  She put on the earrings and found a turquoise wrap to wear over her dress.  

 

“I’m ready.  Do you want to try a restaurant I read about?  It’s a Monday night, so I think we’ll be able to get in.”  She grabbed a small black bag and put her wand into it.

 

“Lead the way,” he said. 

 

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The pair had an intimate dinner at a tiny restaurant in wizarding Santa Fe.  They lingered over their meal, enjoying several courses.  

 

Draco Apparated them back to his casita, holding Hermione close to his body.  They landed in front of his door.  

 

“Will you stay with me while I pack?” he asked her.

 

“Of course.”

 

Draco led her back to his bedroom.  He lit the fireplace.  The fragrant wood crackled and popped as it slowly began to heat the chilled room.  Hermione sat in a comfortable chair near the fireplace, watching him look over his things.  He seemed slightly disoriented.  

 

“Come with me to Wiltshire,” he said.  Hermione gave him a sympathetic half-smile.

 

“Draco, it’s not the right time for me to go back.  Your mum needs you to help her sort out everything.  I don’t want you to be distracted by me.”  Hermione believed everything she had just said.  She worried that his return to England would be the end of their brief affair.  Not wanting to come off as lonely or desperate, she kept that last part to herself. 

 

He gave her a long look, his eyes cool.  He resumed his packing.  Hermione wanted to say something, but they had just admitted their nascent feelings.  She couldn’t change all her plans.  She had started to feel better about her life over the past few months of living and working in Truchas.    

 

Draco felt a stab of hurt at her rejection, but he knew she was trying to be reasonable.  He had to admit that he didn’t know how his mother might react to Hermione.  His mother wasn’t as bigoted as his father, but she had never been enthusiastic about Muggle-borns and half-bloods.  

 

After a few minutes, Draco had his things packed with the exception of what he needed to get ready in the morning.  Hermione got up.

 

“I’m going to go,” she said.  She stepped closer and wrapped him in a hug.  Draco hugged her tightly.

 

“Stay,” he whispered into her hair.

 

“Okay.”

 

They took off their shoes and crawled on top of the bed.  Draco spooned Hermione’s body, hugging her to him.  He luxuriated in her feel and smell, enjoying listening to her soft breathing.  

 

“I’ll miss you,” she said.

 

“I’ll be back after I get this sorted out,” he replied.  

 

Hermione didn’t say anything else.  She hoped they could continue to explore this thing between them, but she wouldn’t expect Draco to return to her.  She couldn’t.  She didn’t want to hope, her heart still tender after losing her parents.  

 

 

When Hermione woke the next morning, Draco was gone.  

           

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huevos rancheros are sunny-side up eggs served over corn tortillas, usually garnished with chile sauce.


	7. Chapter 7

December 16, 1998

 

Weeks had passed since Draco had left.  Hermione spent the day he’d gone laying in her bed, watching movies and intermittedly crying.  She admitted to herself that a future with Draco Malfoy was unlikely.  But a part of her mourned the loss of the closeness they had shared in that short time together.  She could imagine waking up with him, cooking for him and sweet, thoughtful presents for the rest of her life.  They had chemistry, too.  That was undeniable.

 

In one of Hermione’s weekly letters to Harry, she had told him she was feeling sorry for herself.  That letter worried Harry.  Hermione rarely admitted negative feelings, instead choosing to focus on the positive parts of her life.  Harry wrote her back, telling her that he had obtained a Portkey to New Mexico.  He would come on December 23rd and stay through the 27th.  He didn’t want Hermione to be alone for Christmas, and he could use a break from the intense Weasley clan.  

 

Hermione looked forward to Harry’s visit.  He was her remaining family and she treasured their friendship.  Harry had a way of coping with life that Hermione envied.  They hadn’t spoken seriously since the weeks after the final battle.  Hermione looked forward to long talks with her old friend.  

 

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Draco’s return to England had been filled with familial obligations.  His father’s funeral was a depressing affair.  Narcissa and Draco were joined by a Ministry wizard at the burial site.  None of their “friends” had come to the funeral.  The wizard had performed the death rites and lowered the casket into the ground.  Narcissa and Draco threw dirt on the coffin and walked back to the manor.  Narcissa had clung to Draco’s arm throughout the burial.  Draco felt he should be mourning his father as well, but all he could think about was Hermione.  He missed her like a man deprived of sunlight.  

 

The Ministry had seized the majority of the Malfoy estate, but there were still business holdings, properties and Galleons that needed to be transferred to Draco and his mother.  Draco went over the documents for hours, trying to figure out where his father had invested money.  The solicitors were helpful, suggesting that since the remaining investments were growing, Draco and Narcissa leave them alone.  Draco decided to sell several of the properties, to give his mother an additional financial cushion.

 

Draco tried to write to Hermione, but every letter sounded pathetic to him.  She was amazing, resilient and beautiful.  He was a societal cast-off.  He knew she had enjoyed his company, but she hadn’t suggested that she expected anything from him in their affair.  

 

Draco thought maybe he could encourage Hermione to write to him.  He was able to find a set of Protean charmed journals.  They were quite expensive, but he would pay ten times that amount to have contact with Hermione.  They would be able to write to each other and instantly see the writing.  He remembered that Hermione loved a fine quill and ink, so he included those items as well.  He knew these were not personal gifts, but he wanted her to know he had her on his mind.

 

 

 

December 23, 1998

 

Hermione’s life was peaceful, but colorless after Draco’s departure.  Harry joined her on December 23rd, a short time after the end of Auror training.  He looked good: older, scruffy, but he, too, had filled out.  Kreacher’s cooking had helped him gain weight and training had defined his muscles.  He had consented to having his vision fixed by an opti-mediwitch.  His big green eyes looked knowingly at Hermione, which made her feel that he knew she was hiding something from him.

 

After several hours of talk about his training, her work with Jesus Machado, the Weasleys, Ron’s new girlfriend, and the beauty of New Mexico, Harry told her the reason for his visit.  Hermione didn’t want to hide from Harry.  They had been through hell together and he would support her.

 

“A couple of months back, Draco Malfoy came into the café where I was having breakfast.  He looked different.  The war was as hard on him as it was on us, Harry.  He approached me and we talked.  He apologized to me.  I had never spent any significant time with him before, but we got on well,” she confessed.

 

“What happened, Hermione?”

 

“His father died and he had to go back to England to deal with the estate.  He asked me to come back with him, but I told him it wasn’t the right time.  I haven’t heard from him since he left.”  She rested her head in her hand, looking at Harry with big, watery eyes.

 

“You love him, don’t you?” he observed.

 

“It was just a few days, Harry.  Is that possible?”  She wiped a stray tear from her cheek.  

 

“One of wonderful things about you is that you don’t know how great you really are, Hermione.  You’re brilliant and beautiful.  You are kind and caring.  I suspected Malfoy had feelings for you in school.  He would watch you in the hallways and during class.  I think he only insulted you if we caught him staring.”  Harry took a swig of his butterbeer.  

 

“Why do you think he hasn’t tried to contact me?” she asked.

 

“He’s not the same arsehole we knew in school, but he still has his pride.  He asked you to come back with him.  You said no.  He wanted to bring you into his life.  I agree with you that the timing was bad, but he probably saw that as a rejection.  Give him some time.” Harry surprised himself by sympathizing with Malfoy.  

 

“You’re right,” she said, picking at her nail.  “Is it really over with Ginny?”

 

“She didn’t handle Fred’s death well.  She kept blaming me for things that weren’t my fault.  She was so angry.  She went back to Hogwarts and I think she’s doing okay,” he said.   “Ron keeps me updated on the Weasleys.  I go over to The Burrow for Sunday dinner every few weeks.”

 

“You mentioned Luna in a few of your letters.  Is there something going on with you two?”  Hermione hoped there was something between them.  Luna was lovely and loyal.  

 

“Maybe.  She’s spent a few weekends with me at Grimmauld Place.  Oddly, when she’s around, I feel like I can be myself.  She’s really perceptive.”  Harry gave Hermione a grin.

 

“And she’s great in bed?” Hermione said, smirking at Harry.

 

“Yeah, that, too,” he laughed.  “I’m knackered.  I’ll head over to my casita and see you about 9:00 tomorrow morning, okay?”

 

“Thanks, Harry.  I’ve really missed you,” she said, hugging him.

 

He kissed her forehead and headed out the door, into the cold mountain air.

 

 

December 24, 1998

 

Early the next morning, Hermione heard a tapping at her bedroom window.  It was a majestic eagle-owl.  It patiently waited for her to open her window.  She pulled a small package off its leg, which magically enlarged when it was off the owl.  The owl gently hooted at her.  She ran to the kitchen and grabbed a package of leftover meat from the fridge.  She presented it to the owl and it took a couple of pieces and flew into the light of the dawn.

 

The package was wrapped in silver paper with a red cord.  Inside was a journal, a quill, and a bottle of bottomless ink.  Hermione opened the embossed green leather journal.  Inside it said:

 

_To keep in touch.  –D_

 

Hermione inked the quill and wrote _Hello_.  On the next line, the words _Hello, lovely Hermione_ appeared.  Draco had provided her a way to communicate with him over the long distance.  Her heart unclenched for the first time in weeks.  A tear plopped on the journal page.

 

_What was that?_

 

_A tear.  I’ve missed you._

 

_I’ve missed you, too._

 

_Where are you living?_

 

_My mother and I are still at the manor._

 

_What are you doing for Christmas?_

 

_Mother and I will spend the day together.  What about you?_

 

_Harry came to check on me.  He said I sounded “off” in my last few letters.  He’ll be here through the 27_ _ th _ _._

 

_I had hoped to be done by now, but the Malfoy holdings are a tangle of threads.  Does Potter know I was there?_

 

_He does._

 

_I owe Potter a debt of gratitude, more than he will ever know._

 

_Harry is fair and knows all too well how it feels to have the weight of the world on his shoulders._

 

_I want you to write to me every day.  Tell me what you ate, what you read.  Anything._

 

Hermione steeled herself to write the next question.

 

_Do you think we have a future together?_

 

She started to sob when she read his answer.

 

_Yes.  Don’t give up on me._

 

She closed the journal, and got back into bed.

 

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As a lifelong Slytherin, Draco did his best to keep his feelings to himself.  In the world he was raised, showing your weakness didn’t get you love or attention, it got you punished.  But Hermione was so forthright with her acceptance of him, he could not hold back with her.  On a very deep level, Draco knew that he would treasure Hermione and that she, too, might treasure him.    

 

Draco needed to tell his mother of his intentions with Hermione.  His mother didn’t have to approve, but he wanted her to know.  She was his only family.

 

 

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Harry and Hermione had a relaxing holiday.  They hiked and ate.  Hermione made all of Harry’s favorite desserts.  Hermione took Harry to Santa Fe to find a gift for Luna.  Harry stunned her when he bought an expensive silver and gemstone necklace for Luna.  It was a rainbow of stones, artfully arranged in a silver collar that would lie along Luna’s collarbones.  It was perfect for Luna, quirky and charming.  Harry was more serious about Luna than Hermione had known.

 

On the 27th, Hermione bid Harry farewell.  She was feeling infinitely better.  Harry’s visit had helped ease her loneliness, but Draco’s gift had been what she needed.      

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

January 1999

 

By the end of January, Draco had liquidated a great deal of the remaining Malfoy estate.  His mother had insisted that Malfoy Manor stay in the family.  Draco did not plan on living in the mansion, but the property had been his mother’s home for many years.  She could live there indefinitely, as far as Draco was concerned.

 

Narcissa had taken the news of Draco’s relationship with Hermione surprisingly well.  She asked Draco about Hermione, her likes and interests.  Secretly, Narcissa was relieved that Draco was attached to a woman such as Hermione.  Her son had shown character in choosing a woman with backbone and intelligence.  

 

 

February 5, 1999

 

Draco and Narcissa arrived in New Mexico on a snowy February morning.  Narcissa found the landscape fascinating.  It was so different from the English landscape. Narcissa insisted on going to her casita while Draco went in search of Hermione.  She knew he was eager to see Hermione.  Narcissa would have time to get to know Hermione later.      

 

Draco suspected that Hermione might be in the café on this morning when he knew she didn’t work.  He saw her through the window, her long hair coiled on top of her head in a bun.  She was reading a book and drinking a cup of coffee.  She wore a loose black boat neck sweater, which showed off her long neck.  The silver and turquoise hoops adorned her ears.  The first time he had seen her in this café, he had found her alluring.  But now, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.  She looked up and saw him standing outside the window.  She dropped her book and ran outside.  

 

She launched herself at him.  She was crying and smiling.  He held onto her, relishing the feel of her body in his arms and the scent that was all her own.  

 

“Do you mind if we go back to my casita?  Let me get my book,” she said and hurried in to grab her book and bag.

 

When she came back outside, he wrapped her in his arms and Apparated them into her living room.  

 

Draco looked at Hermione’s wet eyes and wiped her cheeks, “You belong with me, Hermione.”

 

She nodded.  “I do.  It feels right.”

 

He kissed her, her pillowy lips opening for him.  She let him explore her mouth, his hands undoing her hair.  She ran her hands over his back and chest.  

 

“I need to touch you, now,” he growled.  

 

He pulled her towards the bedroom, where he lit the fireplace and shut the curtains.  

 

“Do you trust me?” he asked her.

 

“Yes,” she said, her voice low.

 

“I want you to know that I find you beautiful.  Every part of you is perfect to me.  Will you do as I ask you?”

 

“Yes,” she repeated.

 

Draco sat in the chair by the fire.  

 

“Take off your sweater.”  Hermione’s took off her sweater, letting it drop to the floor.

 

“Now your jeans.”  She unbuttoned the top button and slowly unzipped the pants, peeling them off and throwing them to the side.

 

She was wearing a simple black demi cup and black cotton knickers.  Her full breasts were round and high in this bra.  Her round hips flared from her small waist.  Her legs were toned and curvaceous.   

 

“Turn around.”  

 

Hermione turned around, letting him study her backside.  She enjoyed the way Draco studied her body, savoring her curves.  She could feel her skin heating, her pussy beginning to drench her panties.  

 

“Take off your knickers and hand them to me.” 

 

Hermione walked to Draco and placed them in his hand.  He put them against his nose and breathed in the smell of her sex.

 

“Please stand in front of me.”  She stood still while he looked at her uncovered mound.  

 

“Take your bra off.”  She unhooked her bra and let it drop to the ground.  

 

“You’re gorgeous.  I never want you to be embarrassed with me.”

 

He stood up.  “I’m going to undress.  I want you to sit in this chair with your leg draped over the arm.  I want to look at your pussy while I take my clothes off.”

 

He caressed her breast while she traded places with him.

 

She draped her leg over the arm of the chair, giving Draco a view of her wet, pink cunt.  She leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath.

 

His body was lean, his shoulders broad.  His thick cock pointed towards Hermione.  She wanted to touch him.  

 

He kneeled down in front of her.  His finger stroked her slit.  She moaned.

 

“What do you like?” he said softly.

 

She guided his fingers, showing him how she liked to have two fingers in her pussy while another digit rubbed her clit.  He leaned in and licked her clit.  She shuddered.

 

“Do you like that?” he asked.

 

“Yessss,” she moaned.  He stood up and tugged her to her feet.

 

Draco pushed Hermione onto the bed, pushing her legs apart with his knee.  Her scent was intoxicating to him.  He licked up her slit.  He used a finger to trace her lips.  They were so delicate.  He stiffened his tongue and pushed into her vagina.  

 

“Yes, Draco!” Hermione began to rock her hips towards his face.  

 

“Use your tongue on my clit while you finger me,” she gasped.  

 

Draco loved having his face immersed in her most private place, her musky moisture covering his mouth and chin.  He was trying to match the pace of her thrusts.

 

“More, Draco!”  He pushed a third finger into her, furiously licking her clit.  Her hips were pushing her pussy into his mouth.  He watched her face, her mouth slightly opened.  She was panting.  

 

She started to make little mewling noises, then Draco felt a gush of wetness as her pussy pulsated around his fingers.  She cried out as her orgasm overwhelmed her.  He pulled his fingers out of her and brought them to her mouth.

 

“Taste yourself.”  She sucked her juices off his fingers.

 

Draco lay down next to her, running his hands along her body.  He played with her breasts, toying with the nipple, which made her gasp.

 

“Can I explore now?” Hermione asked him.  He nodded, continuing to stroke her smooth skin.

 

Hermione kissed his face, running her hands through his hair.  She nibbled his earlobe, then licked into his ear, which he was surprised he liked.  Her wet tongue licked a trail down his neck, where she stopped to kiss him along the column of his throat.  She kissed the juncture between his neck and shoulders, sucking and biting, her hands exploring his chest, lightly rubbing over his nipples.  She straddled his thighs, running her hands over his ribcage, then taut stomach, massaging his arms and threading her fingers with his.  She looked at him.

 

With a firm touch, she used one hand to rub up and down his cock, as he had shown her some time ago.  She used the other hand to massage the broad head.  He watched her straddling him, playing with his cock.  The feel of her skin pressed against him was divine.  

 

“I want you to suck me,” he told her.  

 

She backed up, then leaned over his erect penis, kissing the head.  She opened her mouth, taking him in.  He sat up slightly, pushing two pillows behind his head to get a better view of her.  The sight of her lush lips wrapped around his cock was the best thing he had ever seen.  She reached down and rolled his balls in her hand.  

 

“Bob your head up and down a bit faster,” he instructed her.  She did as he asked, enjoying the sound of his heavy breathing.  Her long hair was tickling his legs, while her mouth was bringing his fantasy to life.  

 

“When I come, swallow down everything I give you.” He began to thrust into her mouth, enjoying the feel of hitting the back of her throat.  She moaned and the vibration caused him to explode in her mouth.  He groaned and his legs stiffened.  She swallowed down his cum, finally letting him out of her mouth and scooting up next to him.  She laid her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.  

 

“Was that okay?” she asked him.

 

“You’re a goddess,” he said.  She nuzzled her face into his chest.  He grabbed his wand off the side table and accioed a blanket to cover them.   

 

 

  

Hermione woke an hour later, feeling incredibly satisfied.  Draco was watching her, a smile adorning his lips.  

 

“Hi,” she whispered.

 

“Hi.”  

 

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

 

“I have something to confess to you and it might send you running for this hills.”  He pushed a piece of hair behind her ear.

 

She waited for him to continue.

 

“I told my mother that I wanted to formally pursue you.  In the pure-blood tradition, she would get to know you, then eventually she would give us her blessing.  I don’t actually care about the tradition, but it means something to her.”

 

This somewhat public confirmation of his feelings for her buoyed Hermione.  

 

“She’s here, with you?”  He nodded. 

 

“She has her own casita on the other side of the compound.  Would you like to have dinner with us tonight?” 

 

“Do you think she would like to have dinner here?  I would love to cook for you again.  I miss your compliments,” she said, pinching his side.

 

“Oi!  I think she’d like that.  My mother is not as you have known her in the past.  The war changed her as much as it changed me.” He pulled her close.  

 

“I’ll welcome her into my home, Draco.”  Hermione kissed him.

 

“I know you will,” he said.  “What can I do to help you with dinner?”

 

 

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Hermione sent Draco to speak with his mother about their dinner plans and asked him to pick up a dessert and wine.  Narcissa was secretly excited to get to know Hermione.  In actuality, it amazed her that Hermione was able to move between the magical and Muggle world so adeptly.  

 

Besides meeting Draco’s intended, Narcissa wanted to utilize the healing elements of the region.  She knew she was fighting a suffocating depression.  She had been ostracized from society and was lonely, but she felt that she no longer had an anchor in the world.  But she loved her son and was grateful that he had found someone who made him happy.

 

 

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Narcissa and Draco walked up to Hermione’s casita.  

 

When Hermione came to the door, Narcissa almost didn’t recognize her.  This woman was a natural beauty, with her long, chestnut curls and her voluptuous figure.  Narcissa thought she rather resembled Lady Godiva.  

 

Hermione took Narcissa’s hands in hers.  “I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Malfoy.  Please make yourself at home.”

 

Narcissa smiled at the welcoming young woman.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger.  Please call me Cissa.  Draco has told me you’re quite skilled in the kitchen.”

 

Hermione let go of Narcissa’s hands and led her to the small living room, where she had put out an appetizer of walnuts and honey on goat cheese.  An assortment of crackers accompanied the cheese.  Draco opened the first bottle of wine and served it.  

 

Like Draco, Narcissa had become very thin from stress and fear.  Her long hair was threaded with grey.  She had lines around her mouth and eyes that Hermione did not remember seeing the few times she had seen Draco’s mother.  Narcissa’s bone structure and natural grace would always make her beautiful, but she had not come through the past few years unscathed.  

 

While Hermione was taking the roasted chicken out of the oven, Draco and Narcissa followed her to the kitchen to continue their conversation.

 

“Draco tells me that you’re doing potions work here,” Narcissa said.

 

“I have an interest in the healing properties of the magical elements and plants in this region.  Jesus, my mentor, has developed potions that help heal physical and mental pain.”

 

Hermione served their meal and they sat down to eat.  They ate and made small talk.  Draco had three helpings of food, which pleased Hermione.    

 

“Draco did not exaggerate your skill, Hermione.” 

 

“Thank you, Cissa.  What’re we having for dessert, Draco?” Hermione asked.

 

“The bakery had an salted apple caramel tart that looked good,” he replied.

 

“Would you like coffee or tea with dessert, Cissa?” Hermione asked.  

 

“I would take coffee, Hermione,” she said.  

 

Hermione made cinnamon coffee she had been saving and served the tart.  She levitated the plates and mugs to the table.  

 

The three continued their light conversation, until Narcissa asked Hermione where she had learned to cook.

 

“My parents liked to cook.  I suppose you could say it was one of our family past times.” Hermione took a bite of her tart.

 

“They must miss you.  Were you able to see them for the holidays?” Unbeknownst to Narcissa, she was asking Hermione a very loaded question.

 

“With all the violence against Muggle-borns and Muggles, I knew my parents were a natural target.  I wouldn’t have been able to protect them while Harry, Ron and I searched for Voldemort’s Horcruxes.  I Obliviated their identities and gave them a new life in Australia.  When I went to Australia last summer, I wasn’t able to trigger any of their memories.  My initial spell must have been too strong.”  Hermione’s voice shook, but she was clearly trying to keep her emotions together.

 

Draco had thought Hermione’s parents had died.  He wasn’t surprised that Hermione had taken such drastic action to save the lives of her parents.  He also understood her guilt regarding that decision.  

 

“Hermione, you did the right thing.  The violence our family experienced would have been even worse for your parents.  Did they seem content in their new lives?”  Narcissa asked.

 

“They did.  They actually looked as good as I had ever seen them.”  Hermione wiped tears from her cheeks.

 

“You are not alone, my dear,” Narcissa said, pressing a motherly kiss to Hermione’s hair.  She stood up.  “I’ve had a long day and it’s late for me.  We will see each other soon.  Thank you for the lovely meal, Hermione.  No need to escort me back, Draco.  I will see you tomorrow morning?”  

 

“Yes, Mother.  Sleep well,” Draco said, helping Narcissa into her cloak.

 

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After Narcissa’s departure, Draco and Hermione sat on the couch, her feet in his lap.

 

“Care to give me your special foot massage?” she asked him.

 

He gave her a smirk.  “Is that all I’m good for, Granger?”

 

“I can think of a few other things you’re good for,” she said sweetly.

 

He tugged off her socks.  Even her feet were sexy, he mused.  

 

He massaged her feet, spending plenty of time on her delicate arches.  

 

“That is the stuff, Malfoy,” she breathed.  He laughed.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my parents earlier.”

 

“You don’t owe me an explanation, love.”

 

“Did I upset your mother?”

 

“No.  As you can probably tell, she’s depressed.  I think she really liked your warmth and honesty with her.  She doesn’t usually touch others, even with affection.  And she did that with you, twice.”

 

“I liked her, Draco.  Do you think she’d join us at the hot spring?  You mentioned that the water had a positive effect on your mood.  Maybe it would help her.”

 

Draco had planned on taking his mother to the hot spring, but was glad Hermione wanted to join them.  

 

“Let’s go tomorrow, if you’re free,” he suggested.

 

“I’ll pack us a picnic.  I haven’t been back since we went together,” she admitted.  She yawned.  “Let’s go to bed, Draco.”

 

She took his hand, leading him to her bed.  For the first time in months, Draco would sleep through the night.

 


	9. Chapter 9

February 20, 1999

 

While Hermione was at work, Draco and Narcissa explored the wizarding villages of New Mexico.  Narcissa enjoyed the anonymity of another country.  The sunshine was intense, the air crisp and the people unique.  

 

Draco took her to a Native American witch recommended by the compound owner, Mrs. Garcia.  The witch spent significant time neutralizing Narcissa’s aura, which had been sludgy and dark due to the Dark magic she had been around the past few years.  Narcissa was more in touch with her magic after the session and found it less taxing to use her power.  

 

The hot spring had become a daily ritual for Narcissa.  Not only did the hot spring help ease her physical pain, but helped her to be at peace.  She went with Draco, or Draco and Hermione, but often went on her own.  

 

Narcissa enjoyed Hermione’s hearty cooking.  She found herself looking forward to the meals she shared with her son and his beloved.  She knew Draco was serious about Hermione when he told her his desire to formally pursue the Muggle-born witch, but having spent time with the two of them, she saw they were matched in their intellect and passion.  Draco was as light hearted and happy as Narcissa had ever seen him.  The smoldering looks that passed between the two showed an obvious desire, as well.  

 

She gave Draco and Hermione her blessing.  A match based on love and respect was something she hadn’t often seen in her world.

 

 

 

February 28, 1999

 

As Hermione prepared to leave Jesus’ lab, he cleared his throat.

 

“Bring your Mr. Malfoy and his mother by the lab on Thursday.  I’m familiar with her late father’s articles on medical potions.  Perhaps she would like to speak with me about his work, if she is familiar with it.”

 

“I will do that.  Good night, Jesus.”  Jesus gave her a nod and went back to writing down results from an experiment they had just completed.

 

_Interesting_ , thought Hermione.  

 

 

March 3, 1999

 

On Thursday, Narcissa and Draco accompanied Hermione to Jesus Machado’s lab.  Draco was excited, as Potions was his favorite subject in school.  His godfather, Severus Snape, had made sure that Draco understood the nuances of potion making.  

 

Jesus greeted Narcissa and Draco cordially and served tea for the four of them.  Quickly, Hermione realized that Narcissa had a great depth of understanding of the art of potion making.  Narcissa spoke at length with Jesus about her late father’s work.  It was clear that Draco and Hermione would not be easily included in their conversation.  Hermione gave Draco a tour of the lab, explaining to him the work they had done on a new potion to help those with bipolar disorder.  In magical people, the disorder stemmed from an inconsistent amount of magic present in the body.  During a bipolar episode, a witch or wizard would have a high when their magic flooded their system and a low when their magic was hardly present.  

 

Narcissa promised Jesus that she would try to find her father’s journals for him.  When Narcissa thanked Jesus for the invitation, he kissed her cheek and spoke in a low voice to her.  She nodded her head and blushed.  Draco and Hermione looked at each other, grinning.  Draco thanked Jesus, then helped his mother with her coat and the pair exited.    

 

Hermione stayed behind to complete her work for the day.  Draco had given her a fresh perspective on the bipolar disorder potion, which helped her to examine the data they had in a more effective way.  Finally, Hermione finished her analysis and packed up her belongings.

 

“Hermione, extend Mr. Malfoy an invitation to apprentice with me.  The two of you would help me to invigorate my research.”  Jesus gave her one of his rare smiles.

 

Hermione smiled back.  “Thank you, sir.  I’ll tell him tonight.”  

 

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Hermione Apparated to Draco’s casita and let herself in.  Draco was lying on the couch reading _Fight Club_.  He had slowly been working his way through Hermione’s books.

 

“Draco!  Jesus wants you to apprentice with him.”  He sat up and beckoned her to sit on his lap.

 

“That’s great, but why?” Draco had always thought he would like to become a potions master.  That dream had been shelved after the horrors of the past couple of years.

 

“I told him your ideas on reanalyzing the first and second sets of data.  He was really impressed.  He thinks you and I could help invigorate his research,” she said excitedly.

 

“I’d be a fool to pass this up.  When do I start?”  Draco pressed a kiss to her neck.

 

“We’ll go in at the same time, so next Monday.  I’m proud of you, Draco.  This will be a great opportunity for you.”  

 

Draco gave her a wide smile.  “I can’t wait.  My mother will be thrilled, too.  She enjoyed her conversation with Jesus.”

 

“Did she tell you what he said at the end of the visit?  She looked flustered.”

 

Draco laughed.  “Apparently, he asked her to dinner.  They’re going out Saturday night.”

 

“You are kidding me!”  Hermione’s mouth hung open in shock.

 

“I’m not joking.  She looked very pleased with herself when I dropped her off.”  Draco pulled off the elastic at the bottom of her braid and began to release her hair.  

 

“Well, I’m happy for her.  He’s an honorable man and brilliant, too.”  Hermione enjoyed Draco’s fingers in her hair.  He untangled a small knot.

 

Draco nodded, while continuing to comb through her thick mane with his fingers.

 

“Let go out for dinner, love.  Somewhere with butterbeer.”

 

“Ok, I think I know where we can go,” she said, getting off his lap.  

 

They walked back to her casita.  He followed her into the bedroom, so they could chat as she got ready.  She looked into her closet, trying to figure out what to wear. 

 

“Wear the red halter top.”

 

“I haven’t worn it before,” she said, taking it off the hanger.  She paired it with jeans and her brown leather boots.

 

After freshening her makeup, she began to re-braid her hair.  

 

“Wear your hair loose,” Draco said.  “You look hot, Granger.”

 

The outfit was flirty and fun.  Hermione knew that Draco enjoyed seeing her assets displayed.  The halter showed off her round shoulders and full breasts.    

 

Hermione grabbed her brown leather jacket and Apparated them to a bar in Taos.

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

He kept his hand on the small of her back as they entered the bar, La Bruja*.  La Bruja was a hole in the wall, but the food was good.  Draco sat next to Hermione in the dimly lit booth.  They ordered the nightly special.  The waitress kept their drinks filled as they talked.  The more Hermione drank, the more affectionate she was with Draco.  She caressed his thigh as they conversed.  He kept his arm around her shoulders, playing with her long hair.  

 

When they finished their meal, they decided to tour the shops.  They walked along until Hermione spied a necklace she liked.  They went into the charming shop, which was filled with silver jewelry of all kinds.  Draco noticed a large rough-cut garnet on a silver chain.  He had the storeowner bring out the necklace.

 

Draco waved Hermione over.  He pushed her hair over her shoulder, then put the chain around her neck, fastening the clasp.  She looked in the mirror and smiled back at him.

 

“You look very Gryffindor in that,” he teased her.

 

“You picked it, Malfoy,” she said, examining the unique stone in the mirror.

 

The shop owner quietly mentioned to Draco that the necklace had matching earrings.  Draco thought the earrings would be a gorgeous compliment to Hermione’s dark hair.  

 

“She’ll wear the necklace now, but would you wrap the earrings?”  The owner nodded, taking Draco’s payment.  Draco slipped the earrings into his pocket.

 

“Are you ready, love?”

 

“Will you help me take off the necklace, Draco?” she said, lifting her hair.

 

The shop owner walked over to Hermione, “Your husband has good taste.  Rough- cut garnets enhance passion.  Enjoy your necklace.”  The shop owner gave the couple a wave as they headed out the door.  It thrilled Draco that the owner had thought they were married.  

 

Once they were out of the shop, Hermione turned to Draco and kissed him softly on the cheek.  “The necklace is beautiful.  Thank you.”

 

Draco relished buying things for Hermione.  He knew she wasn’t materialistic, but her face lit up with the small gifts.  He would give her the earrings when they got home.  

 

They continued to walk until the shops began to close up then Apparated to her casita.

 

 

March 5, 1999

 

Early Saturday afternoon, Hermione accompanied Narcissa to Santa Fe for a bit of shopping.  Narcissa wanted to pick up a new dress for her dinner with Jesus Machado.  Hermione was tickled to help the older woman prepare for her date with the serious potions master.

 

The wizarding section of Santa Fe was hidden in the Muggle tourist area of the city.  The local witches and wizards were a colorful bunch, selling high priced clothing and jewelry that Narcissa found intriguing.  

 

While Narcissa tried on dresses, Hermione found herself drawn to a floral sundress.  The top of the sundress had a constructed bodice with thick straps.  The dress was navy blue with small red and yellow flowers.  Narcissa came out of the dressing room to show Hermione a dress she liked and saw Hermione admiring the sundress.

 

“Try it on, Hermione.  Draco would love it,” Narcissa urged Hermione with a gleam in her eye.  

 

Hermione tried on the dress.  It fit her well, showcasing her breasts and small waist.  She came out of the dressing room.

 

“You look lovely,” she said to Hermione.  To the sales lady she said, “Add it to my purchases.”

 

“Cissa, you don’t have to buy me anything,” Hermione protested.  

 

Narcissa simply said, “I would have paid any amount to have Draco as happy as he has been since he became involved with you.  Nothing I buy you will ever express my gratitude for the love you have shown my son.  He will be a good husband to you, Hermione.”

 

“Draco and I have never talked about marriage.  He hasn’t told me he loves me.  I’m not sure our relationship is there yet,” she admitted and hoped she didn’t offend Narcissa.

 

“Do you love him?” Narcissa asked.  

 

“I do,” Hermione said, smiling at the woman she had come to regard as a friend.

 

Narcissa laughed.  “Nothing could make me happier, Hermione.  Let’s finish up here so I can spend some time picking out jewelry.”

 

They continued to shop until Narcissa realized she needed to return to her casita to prepare for her date.  Hermione hugged Narcissa when they landed at the compound.

 

“Thank you, Cissa, for the lovely dress,” Hermione said.

 

“My pleasure, Hermione.  I hope you enjoy it.” Narcissa smiled at Hermione and went into her casita.

 

 

 

March 6, 1999

 

The next morning, Draco, Hermione and Narcissa had breakfast at the café.  

 

“How was your dinner, Cissa?” Hermione asked, once they all had coffee and pastries.  

 

“We had a very interesting discussion about potions.  Jesus is a fascinating man,” Narcissa said to Hermione.  “Actually, Draco and Hermione, I wanted to let you know that I have arranged a portkey to our property in France.  I have some friends there and the house needs some updating.”

 

“When do you leave, Mother?” Draco inquired.

 

“Tomorrow morning.” 

 

Draco was glad his mother and Hermione had developed a friendship, but he was ready to have Hermione to himself.  

 

“Hermione and I will see you off tomorrow, Mother.”

 

“Thank you, Draco.  I will miss you, son.  You have become the man I had hoped you would.”  

 

 

 

March 7, 1999

 

The next morning, after Narcissa left, Draco was surprised to see Hermione wiping tears from her eyes.  

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, wrapping her in his arms.

 

“Your mum leaving made me miss my parents,” she said into his chest.

 

“What can I do?”

 

She hugged him tighter.  “I don’t know.  Would you like an elaborate dessert?  I bake when I’m feeling blue.”

 

“Yeah, love, that would be great.”

 

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Three hours later, they were digging into a chocolate cheesecake drizzled with raspberry coulis.  Draco would have been more excited about it if Hermione didn’t seem so distant.  

 

He offered to spell the kitchen clean, but she wanted to clean up the Muggle way, citing it as a distraction.  

 

By nine that evening, Draco was beginning to worry about Hermione.  She had been uncommunicative and absentminded.  

 

He led her to the bathroom, where he helped her undress and drew a bath.  He undressed and got in behind her. 

 

He used a cup she kept near the bathtub and rinsed her hair, then massaged her fragrant shampoo into her scalp.  She sighed and relaxed into his touch.  Draco rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, combing his finger through her hair to get rid of any snarls.  

 

While he rubbed her back with a flannel cloth, he realized she was stifling cries.  He continued to gently rub her back and shoulders.  Eventually, he stopped and hugged her to him.

 

“I’m sorry, Draco,” she softly cried.

 

“You have taken care of me since the moment I walked into that café.  I would do anything for you, Hermione.  I’ve never felt so cared for, never had someone take such interest in me as you have the past few months.  If you need me to take care of you, I’d do it in a heartbeat because I love you,” he finished, feeling like she needed this verbal confirmation of his feelings for her.  

 

She straddled him and hugged him close.  “I love you, too, Draco.”  

 

“Don’t cry, love.  We’ll figure this out together, yeah?”  Draco felt her nod.  “Let’s dry off and get into bed.  I know you could use a good night’s sleep.”

 

They got out of the tub.  Draco wrapped Hermione in a towel and used a second towel on her hair.

 

“Will you comb out my hair?”  She seemed so vulnerable in that moment.

 

“Of course.  Let’s sit on your bed.”  Draco followed her into the bedroom, where she sat on the edge of the bed.  He sat next to her and gingerly began combing through her thick hair.  When he was finished he used his wand to cast a drying spell then braided her hair loosely.

 

She handed him her towel and crawled under the covers.  Draco slid in next to her, lying on his side to face her.  He kissed her gently.  

 

“Love you, Draco,” she said, arranging her body to be close to him.

 

“Love you, too,” he murmured, resting his hand on her waist.  

 

Within a few minute they were both asleep. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La bruja is Spanish for the witch.


	10. Chapter 10

March 8, 1999

 

As Hermione woke the next morning, she luxuriated in the feel of Draco’s naked body beside her.  His body spooned hers closely.  She had felt so lost the day before, but Draco had instinctively understood how to take care of her.  She knew he loved her, but hearing him admit it had been a healing salve on her battered heart.  

 

He pulled her body closer, his hand cupping her breast.  She could feel his erection against her backside.  She pushed back into him.  He groaned.

 

“Morning, pet,” he murmured into her ear.

 

“Mmm.  Good morning.”

 

She turned around to face him.  His thickly lashed eyes were heavy lidded with a combination of sleep and desire.  She kissed him, her tongue provocatively stroking his tongue.  Draco’s hands found the wetness between her legs.  He pushed a finger into her pussy.  She moaned and pulled his weight toward her.  

 

Draco rolled on top of Hermione, looking down at her flushed face.  He rubbed the head of his penis over her drenched folds.  She reached down and adjusted him, so he was poised to fill her.  

 

“Are you sure?”  

 

“Please, Draco,” she pleaded.

 

He pushed into her tight, hot sheath.

 

“Okay, love?” he whispered.  A few seconds ticked by, Draco struggling to keep still.

 

“Keep moving,” she urged him.

 

Draco thrust into her, kissing her deeply.  He grasped at her breast.

 

“Get on top of me,” he ordered.  “I need to see your gorgeous body.”

 

Hermione straddled him, letting her body slowly sink onto his thickness.  Draco’s hands reached around to massage her ass. Hermione began to glide up and down at a leisurely pace.  As she watched Draco’s face, his eyes glazed, she licked her lips.  She brought her hands up to her breasts, pinching the nipples.

 

Draco felt her begin to speed up.  He reached down and rubbed at her engorged clit with the pad of his thumb.  Hermione moaned, her full tits bouncing while he thrust into her.   

 

She began to breathe harder and moaned loudly.  “Yes, Draco, yes!” she cried.

 

Draco’s thrusts became erratic, his hands grasping her hips to give himself more friction against her slickness.  When he felt her walls pulsate around him, he came, screaming her name.      

 

He pulled her down to kiss her swollen lips, holding her soft body close to his.  Hermione let him slip from her body, but stayed on top of him, enjoying the beat of his heart.

 

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They layed in bed, quietly talking.  

 

“I wish things had been different when we were in school,” Draco told Hermione.

 

“I do, too.  Would you have liked someone like me in school?” 

 

“Yeah, I think so.  I envied Potter and Weasley having your friendship.  It was a mystery to me that neither was your boyfriend.”

 

“I’m not really the type of girl most boys are attracted to,” she admitted.

 

“You fascinated me.  And you’re beautiful.”  Draco traced his finger along Hermione’s jaw line.  

 

“Did your family practice the pure-blood practice of arranged marriage?” 

 

“I think all the wealthy pure-blood families arranged the marriages of their children.  My father suggested I would be betrothed to Pansy or one of the Greengrass sisters.”

 

“Is that why you hung out with Pansy so much?”

 

“I didn’t like the Greengrass sisters at all, they were so timid.  I think the younger sister, Astoria, was afraid of me.  Pansy and I grew up together, so I was used to her.  We experimented with each other.  But she didn’t taste right to me.  Does that make sense?”

 

“It does.  Your smell, your kisses intoxicate me.  I’ve never felt that with anyone before.”

 

“Same with me.  I love the way you smell, like orange and juniper.  You taste sweet to me.”  Hermione kissed him, enjoying the languid pace of their tongues.  Draco broke the kiss, rubbing his unshaved cheek against hers.  Draco was quiet for a moment before he asked his next question.

 

“When did you realize you loved me?”

 

“When Harry and I were talking about you during his visit.  I hadn’t heard from you for a few weeks and I thought I had lost you.  I had this glimpse of life with you and I wanted more.”

 

“The night before I went back to England, I knew I loved you.  You were right not to come back with me, but I felt…devastated.”

 

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears.  “I felt the same way.”

 

Draco hugged her to his chest, not wanting Hermione to see his wet eyes. 

 

“Are you hungry?” Hermione asked a few moments later.

 

“Famished, actually,” he chuckled.

 

“I just realized we didn’t eat dinner.  Poor baby,” she teased.

 

“It’s okay, love.  I think I’ll survive.”

 

Hermione reluctantly left the warm cocoon of the bed.  She took a quick shower, then dressed in jeans and a tank top.  When Hermione walked into the kitchen, she saw Draco serving coffee.  

 

“Thanks, Malfoy.  The coffee smells good,” she said, kissing his cheek.  

 

Draco drank his coffee at the kitchen table and watched Hermione make a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and her homemade bread.  _How did I get so lucky?_

 

Hermione’s thoughts were a jumble after the past 24 hours.  She had been depressed and guilty thinking about her parents, humbled by Draco’s care for her, elated by his words of love and this morning had been…incredible.  Every touch had made her skin tingle and her core drip.  The way she had felt when he moved inside her was unlike anything she could have expected.  The stark angles of his body pressed into her curves in the most pleasurable way.  

 

She looked at the object of her thoughts and felt a surge of love for him.  Hermione had the sudden realization that she wanted everything with this man: marriage, children, a home.  She knew this realization went against the “life plan” she had developed for herself over the past several years, but the war had taught her to cherish the people she loved.

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

After breakfast, Draco returned to his casita to shower and change.  He opened the top dresser drawer and took out the ring he had brought back from his Gringotts vault.  The ring was the oldest of the betrothal rings in the Malfoy cache.  The Malfoy history in the manor library had said the very earliest Malfoy matriarch wore the ring.  It was at least 1,500 years old.  

 

The band was thick, made of dark gold with a smooth faced ruby set directly into the gold.  Draco could feel the wild, primitive magic of the ring.  It was a ring that needed to be worn by a powerful, intuitive witch.  When a Malfoy gave the ring, the protection spells forged in the gold would activate to keep the recipient safe.   He could imagine Hermione planting a garden or nursing their child with this ring on her finger.  _I’ll give it to her soon_ , he thought and put it back in his dresser.                 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

May 10, 1999

 

Draco had discussed the healing properties of the hot spring with Jesus Machado over the past few weeks.  Jesus knew that Draco was especially passionate about healing potions for curse survivors.  Though he hadn’t discussed it with them, he knew Draco and Hermione had been deeply involved in magical England’s war.  

 

He had often noticed the stiffness of his young male apprentice when he had sat too long.  No one that age should have that type of pain, unless he was sick or had been abused.  Jesus guessed that Draco had been abused, since Draco’s family had been part of the bloodthirsty and fanatical Voldemort regime.

 

On this day, Draco had shared that he had found two unique minerals in the hot spring water that combined to ease pain and depression.  The combined and heated minerals were poisonous to ingest, but when the two minerals were added to warm bath water, the user could soak and his pain and depression would ease for several days.  Hermione was so proud of Draco’s ingenuity and hard work.

 

To celebrate Draco’s discovery, Hermione took him to dinner at a bistro on the Truchas plaza.  After a filling meal, they decided to stroll through the small town to enjoy the warm evening.  They passed a house Hermione had admired on several occasions.  It was a traditional adobe house with a walled-in courtyard.  Hermione was surprised to see a “for sale” sign set in front of the wall.  The owner had cultivated a lush garden with desert flowers, pinon trees, a melodious water fountain and a charming sitting area.

 

“Isn’t this house great?” she wistfully said to Draco.  

 

“Do you know what the inside is like?  I do like the privacy of the yard,” he said, an idea percolating in his head.

 

“No, I’ve never been inside.  I bet it’s lovely.”

 

“Yeah, I bet it is.”  Draco hugged her into his side, pressing a kiss into her hair.

 

When the couple got back to Hermione’s casita, Hermione flipped on the Wizarding Wireless Network.  The opening notes of Billie Holiday’s _Summertime_ were playing.  Draco pulled Hermione into his arms, rocking her back and forth in a slow dance.  Her hands circled his neck.

 

“I love this song,” Hermione murmured.

 

“I know.”

 

As they swayed, Draco unbuttoned Hermione’s cotton dress.  He thumbed her nipples through her bra, feeling the nipples harden with his attention.  

 

“Mmm,” she hummed.

 

Draco pushed the dress off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.  Hermione kicked it to the side.  He stepped back from her.

 

“Dance for me,” he said.

 

Draco sat on the sofa, entranced by Hermione’s swaying to the music, her long hair swinging, her eyes locked on his.  She unhooked her bra and let it fall to her side.  She cupped her breasts, gently pinching and tugging on the pink nipples.  She ran her hands over her waist and hips, letting her hand skim her covered mound.

 

“Touch yourself,” he instructed her.  Draco had unbuttoned his pants and was rhythmically rubbing his hand over his hard cock in time to Hermione’s swaying.  She unhurriedly dragged her knickers off, bending over to give Draco a view of her round ass.  She watched him take his penis out of his pants, massaging precum into the head with his thumb.

 

Hermione dipped her finger into her wet core and caressed her slit.  Draco was utterly absorbed watching her touch herself.  He pulled his pants down and used his feet to push them off.  Hermione, her fingers moist, kneaded her breasts while walking towards him.  She knelt in front of him and unbuttoned his shirt, kissing his chest, sucking his nipples lightly.  Her hands explored his thighs, the hair tickling her palms.  Draco enjoyed her attentions and the way she looked while exploring him, her lusty brown eyes looking up at him through thick lashes.  She licked her pink lips and took the head of his cock into her mouth.  Draco’s threw his head back, his hands automatically going to her hair, massaging her scalp.

 

Hermione’s tongue laved at his penis while her lips sucked.  She took him as far into her throat as she could, then slowly sucked her way back up.  

 

“Yes, love, yes,” Draco murmured.

 

When Draco felt like he was getting close to coming, he tugged her head gently.  He pulled her into his lap, guiding her dripping pussy over his erection.  Hermione let her weight fall onto him, gasping at the fullness she felt.  

 

“You are so bloody sexy,” he rasped.  

 

Draco’s sucked a nipple into her mouth and used his hand to play with her other nipple.  

 

“Mmm, yes, Draco,” Hermione moaned, enjoying the feeling of his cock filling her, his mouth and hands on her greedy flesh.  Her hands went to his silky hair, scraping his scalp with her blunt nails.  

 

Draco’s every thrust hit her g-spot, helping to get her closer to orgasm.  When Draco roughly grabbed her hips to grind their pelvises together, Hermione came with a keening moan.  Draco came, groaning into her sweaty neck.  She felt boneless and incoherent.  He kissed her neck and jaw, hugging her body close to his.  They stayed in that position for minutes, both trying to catch their breath.  

 

Reluctantly, Hermione stood up, offering him her hand.

 

“Come on,” she said to her satisfied, lethargic lover, leading him to bed.

 

 

May 11, 1999

 

The next morning, Draco went to see the real estate agent about the house that seemed to call to his soulful girl.  

 

The inside of the house was as charming as the outside.  The floors were a smooth, weathered pine, the walls a soft adobe white, and the ceilings showed exposed beams.  But the kitchen was what sold Draco on the property.  It was open to the living area with a huge butcher-block island anchoring it in the great room.  The cabinets were washed with a dark green stain, with space for cookbooks, a myriad of dishes, pots and pans.  The windows in the kitchen overlooked the back of the property, with its extensive vegetable, herb and potions gardens.  Draco was pleased to find that the house was situated on an acre of land, which included a small stream that ran through the rear of the back lot.

 

Draco thought the house would be a perfect place for him and Hermione.  It felt like a home, something he knew Hermione craved and he wanted to provide for her.  He had the real estate agent prepare the paperwork and authorized a transfer of funds from his Gringotts account.  The house had been cleared before it went on the market, so as soon as the owners received the funds, the agent was able to transfer the house into Draco’s name.  Three hours after Draco had explored the property, the real estate agent handed Draco the keys to the house.  

 

When he got back to the Hermione’s casita, she was serving herself a bowl of creamy potato and onion soup.

 

“You finished your errands just in time for lunch,” she said, serving him a bowl of the fragrant soup.  Steaming scallion and cheddar buns were already on the table.

 

“You are too good to me,” Draco said, kissing her.  She hugged him quickly before sitting down.

 

“So, what did you have to do this morning?” she asked.

 

“Just some financials,” he said, taking a bite of the fragrant bread.  “What did you do this morning?” 

 

“I did some cleaning, then read the North American Potions Society Journal I received yesterday.”

 

“Are you doing anything this afternoon?  I wanted to show you something I saw in town today.”  Draco nervously fingered the ring in his pocket.  He knew Hermione loved him, but there was always the possibility that she would think it was premature for marriage and a home together.  

 

“No.  I was thinking about going to the market, but I’ve been tired the past few days.  What are we going to look at?”

 

“It’s a surprise,” Draco smirked at her.

 

“We can go after lunch, then.  You know I love a mystery.  If I guess, will you tell me what it is?”

 

Draco laughed.  “You will figure it out soon enough, love.”

 

After lunch, Draco Apparated them to the Truchas plaza, a few blocks from the house.  When they got to the house, Hermione was dismayed that the “for sale” sign was gone.

 

“Draco, someone already bought the house!  I had hoped to see the inside before it was sold.”  She kept on walking, but Draco tugged her back towards the house’s wooden gate.

 

“Should we sneak in and take a peak?  I don’t think anyone is here.”  Draco thought Hermione might suspect that he was the buyer, but she showed no indication that this was the case.

 

“I don’t know, Draco.  The wards might keep us out.” 

 

Draco opened the gate and walked into the courtyard.  “The wards accepted me.  Let’s look.”

 

Hermione gingerly stepped into the courtyard, looking around. “This is even prettier than I thought it would be.”  

 

She peered into a window.  “Draco, the inside is amazing!  Come look.”  

 

Draco opened the front door.  “Let’s look at the inside.  The door was left open.”

 

“No, Draco, I think that’s going too far.”  

 

Draco pulled Hermione from the window.  “I know your curiosity is killing you.”

 

She pouted.  “It is.  If we get caught, I’m throwing you under the bus.”

 

“I will accept all blame if we are caught,” he said playfully, firmly holding her hand as he led her into the empty house.

 

They examined the house, Hermione oohing and ahhing at the delightful details.  When they got to the kitchen, Hermione caressed her hands over the counters.

 

“This is my dream kitchen!  Huge counter tops, lots of storage.  I love the way the kitchen opens to the great room.”

 

Draco lifted her onto the counter and stood between her legs.  She gave him a questioning look.  

 

“The house is ours.  I bought it this morning.  I know we didn’t talk about it, but you’ve admired the house for months.”

 

Hermione was gob smacked.  She had daydreamed about living in this house, had imagined filling it with books and family and love.  Hermione pulled Draco into a tight embrace.

 

“Really?” she whimpered.  “This is our house?”

 

Draco cleared his throat.  Hermione looked at him, her eyes glassy, his eyes studying her face.

 

“Yes.  Really.”  He took the ring out of this pocket, bringing it up for her to see.

 

“I want to marry you, Hermione.  I bought the house so we could put down roots, if that’s what you want.  But home is wherever I’m with you*.”

 

A tear slipped down her cheek.  “I want to marry you, too, Draco.”  Hermione’s wet eyes shone with love.  

 

Draco slipped the ring on her finger.  It glowed, then adapted to Hermione’s powerful magic.  

 

“It’s been imbued with protection spells.  The ring’s magic is wild and strong.  Only a witch with truly natural power could wear it.”  

 

Hermione admired the ancient ring, the protection spells soothing her.

 

“I can feel it merging with my magic.  It’s a magnificent ring.”

 

“I’ve had it since January,” Draco admitted.  For some reason unknown to him, this made Hermione cry harder.

 

“What is it?” Draco gently asked.

 

Hermione took a deep breath and slowly let it out.  “I have a surprise for you, too.”  Hermione tried to keep her composure, but tears continued to escape her eyes.  

 

“Something we didn’t know about the hot spring is that it boosts fertility.  Even though I’ve been on a contraceptive potion since November, the work we were doing in the lab put us both in close contact with the essence of what makes that spring healing.  I missed my last cycle.  The conception spell I did was positive.”

 

Draco stared at her for a moment before he let out the most un-Malfoy whoop, crushing her lips to his.

 

He pulled away, laughing.  She buried her face in his hair letting his scent calm her.  

 

“This house has five bedrooms, love.  I want to fill it with our children.”

 

Hermione swatted his shoulder.  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Malfoy.”  She laughed at Draco’s enthusiasm, guessing he had never been around a baby before. 

 

 

June 1, 1999

 

The wedding was two weeks later in the lush garden of their new home.  Narcissa, Harry, Luna, Ron, his girlfriend Susan Bones, Professor McGonagall, the Garcias and Jesus Machado were in attendance.  Narcissa had brought Hermione a crème colored lace gown that magically altered to fit her curves.  Hermione wore the garnet earrings and necklace from Draco, her loose hair had small red roses woven through the strands.  Draco was handsome in a light grey dress robes and slacks, a white dress shirt and red tie.  

 

Draco and Hermione had notified their guests of the pregnancy prior to the visit.  Narcissa was the only person who didn’t seem surprised.  She had seen the way they looked at each other.  She knew it was only a matter of time before she would welcome a grandchild.  Without Lucius’ disapproval, she could be as indulgent and doting as she wanted to be with the baby.

 

Any skepticism about the match evaporated when Hermione’s friends saw how content she was with Draco.  Ron and Harry approved of the solicitous way Draco treated Hermione.  Professor McGonagall, who had a more mature perspective of Draco, was impressed with the change in his behavior.  She thought Hermione seemed more centered, as well, and less worried about impressing others.  Over the years she had seen Draco watch Hermione with a covert fascination.  She thanked Merlin that in this post-war world, these two could love each other without fear of punishment.    

 

 

June 24, 1999

 

A few weeks after the wedding, Hermione and Draco ventured into Taos to see a mediwitch midwife.  The mediwitch waved her wand over Hermione’s abdomen.

 

“Let’s listen to the baby’s heartbeat,” she said.  Hermione thought the baby’s heartbeat sounded chaotic and fast.

 

“Ok, let me bring up an image.”  Draco held Hermione’s hand, feeling elated and nervous.

 

With a tap of her wand, the image of Hermione’s uterus was projected in the air.  The mediwitch pointed to one tiny, pulsating blob, “That’s the first baby.”  She then pointed to another.  “And there’s the second.”  Seeing the shock on the new parents’ faces, she excused herself from the room.

 

“Oh.  Merlin.  Two babies, Draco?”  Hermione shook her head in shock.  

 

Draco’s smile threatened to take over his face.  “We are blessed, love.”

 

Hermione’s eyes moistened.  “You’re right.  These babies will be loved so much.”

 

When the mediwitch came back to schedule Hermione’s next appointment, she was pleased to see joy on the faces of her young clients.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Home is wherever I’m with you” is from the song “Home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes.


	12. Chapter 12

**Epilogue**

 

 

June 2001

 

Hermione put out an assortment of chopped breakfast food for the twins, Scorpius and Severus.  At thirteen months, they were still getting comfortable with eating solids. Scor and Sev were identical twins.  They had their father’s fair hair with Hermione’s curls and big brown eyes.  Scor was temperamental and dramatic, often using his angelic face to get a smile or laugh from his parents.  Sev, like his namesake, was quieter but much more mischievous.    

 

Draco came into the kitchen, helping his wife get out of her chair.  They had been shocked to find out Hermione was once again pregnant five months ago.  While Hermione had abstained from using the hot spring and working with the active potion ingredients in Draco’s _Conforto*_ potion, Draco had not.  He found that nothing soothed his body as the hot spring did, so he soaked at least once a week.  The side effect was that Draco was incredibly potent.  Hermione had been on a contraceptive potion, but that hadn’t seemed to matter.  The news overwhelmed them at first, but the Malfoys had room in their hearts for the new baby.

 

Draco’s wet hair tickled Hermione’s nose when he leaned in for a kiss.

 

“How did you sleep?  You were up early this morning,” Draco said, rubbing her round belly.  

 

“I wanted to get some work done on the house before your mum arrives,” Hermione said.  “I’m quite excited that she’ll be here for the next few months.”

 

“She wants to be able to help us with the boys and the baby, after she’s born.  I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before she buys a house here.”  Draco chuckled, but he was serious.

 

“Do you think she would?  I would love the kids to have her nearby.  She’s a natural with them.”  Hermione had come to love Narcissa, enjoying the intelligent witch’s company and doting attention she provided for her grandsons.  

 

Draco’s potion had become a staple in apothecaries.  The potion’s initial purpose of easing pain and depression had become secondary to the fertility boost users received.  Draco sold licenses for the potion instructions to potioneers throughout the world.  Each license, renewed annually, brought in several hundred galleons, amounting to a very decent yearly sum.  Hermione was pleased they could live off their potions work, leaving the Malfoy legacy and her war reward for the next generation.       

 

Draco nudged his wife towards the bath.  “Yes, Mother would love to be closer to us.  We can talk to her about it when she’s here.  I’ve got the boys.  Go shower, love.”

 

Hermione kissed each twin and watched her striking husband clean food from their messy faces and hands.  _He’s such a good father._   Hermione walked towards the bath, tearing up.  _I have more than I ever could have wished for_.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conforto is Latin for console and strengthen.


End file.
